


Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-23
Updated: 2007-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've been working on this one for a while, ever since I first got the innocent!Dave idea.  One incarnation of that is my New Cuba RP Dave, and the other is this story.  I hate kids in real life, so I don't know why I'm writing a parental fic, but here it is.  Oh, and Friday posting should more or less be a regular thing, as it's all written, but due to my work schedule could sometimes be Thursday or Saturday.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this one for a while, ever since I first got the innocent!Dave idea. One incarnation of that is my New Cuba RP Dave, and the other is this story. I hate kids in real life, so I don't know why I'm writing a parental fic, but here it is. Oh, and Friday posting should more or less be a regular thing, as it's all written, but due to my work schedule could sometimes be Thursday or Saturday.

Dave fingered the Dairy Milk wrapper for a moment, smiled, and considered slipping it into his cart, having a little taste in the car—she wouldn't notice.

But then he shook his head, continued down the aisle, and reminded himself that he needed to hurry, fetch the milk, a litre skim, block of cheese, "don't be late now, Davey, you know 'Liza needs her milk before bed or she'll get fussy." He would have laughed at himself, a grown man afraid to buy a packet of crisps or a chocolate, if it weren't so serious.

Because Kate would know.

Kate always knew, always sensed, always was one step ahead of Dave. She would taste the chocolate on his tongue, that delicious milky taste that he found himself craving like a pregnant lady in her third trimester, now. Then again, she would only know if he kissed her, and these days the whole tongue thing was becoming less and less frequent.

"Natural consequence of having children," their marriage counsellor assured them with his plastic smile, and Kate grinned back and patted Dave's hand. They were fine; they were normal. They could go on being a typical Christian couple; all was right as rain.

Dave suspected depression.

"Honey?"

Dave sighed, pressed the mobile to his ear as he fished a few dollars out of his trousers to pay for the groceries. "Yes, dear?"

"You left over fifteen minutes ago. What's the hold-up?"

"Just driving defensively, darling. It's dark out."

He could almost see Kate biting her lip. "All right, well, hurry home, would you?"

"I'll be right there."

Dave sighed again, and the woman at the till smiled sympathetically. He loved Kate, of course he did. He loved their little girl, and though some road bumps had appeared as of late, his level of overall satisfaction with his life was fairly high. He had a good, well paying job in real estate. He had a wife, a daughter, a house that was nearly paid for, and a church in which he was involved. He turned the key in the ignition and frowned.

The late-model family sedan purred to life, and its various modern displays lit up automatically—including a GPS tracking system that not only gave directions on command, but also relayed information about the car's position to Kate's computer. She had gotten the system installed as a "security precaution," in case something happened to Dave when he was on the road, but it still gave him the heebie jeebies.

 

"Dave, honey, you did get skim, right?"

"Yeah, it's right here." He passed his wife the bag from the corner store, following behind as she headed to the kitchen, scrutinizing the contents as she walked.

"I'm sorry, love, I don't mean to be so hard on you, it's just that her bones are growing and we want her to have calcium but not excess fat…"

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, crossing the room to pull on his daughter's toes and smiling as she squealed with delight. "It's no problem, really."

Eliza Jane was only two years old, but already she was starting to take after her father with bright blue eyes and fair curls of red hair. The curls, of course, came from her mother, who was the kind of blonde you would expect to see on the cover of _Playboy_ or the _Sports Illustrated_ Swimsuit Edition. In reality, Kate was more likely to be in a feature of _Good Housekeeping_, but she was still just as beautiful as she had been when Dave married her seven years ago, and he recognized that.

"Honey, I told you about the church building day tomorrow, right?" Dave asked, crossing the room to the large laminated refrigerator calendar as Kate fed their daughter the warmed skim milk from a sippy cup.

"Yeah, you did. I'll probably be over around noon or so with lunch for the men. 'Liza has a play date with Angela Houston over in Bundeena, so I'll take her there around ten and then pick up some fried chicken and potato salad for everyone."

"And iced tea?" Dave asked hopefully, his lips moulding into a pout.

Kate smiled for a moment and nodded. "And iced tea."

"Brilliant, love. You're the best," he exclaimed, kissing her cheek and heading for the stairs. "I'm just going to take a quick shower while you put 'Liza down. I'll see you upstairs."

"Okay, just leave me some hot water!"

Dave smiled as he headed into the master suite, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it in the laundry bin on the way to the bathroom. He thought back to when he had first met Kate back in school—no one had believed it when he, the geeky kid who liked art and photography and sat in the front row, managed to snag Kate Agnew, the pretty blonde cheerleader from Victoria, in their senior year.

Back then, Kate was a bit more playful, but she was still the same person. Dave had admired her level-headedness, her organization, and her drive. Kate had big plans, and when she managed to find a space for Dave in them, well, that was just fine with him. They were best friends at first, though they did occasionally go on dates, but in college it got serious. At her pleading, he switched his major from art history to business, and they talked of starting a life together.

Kate joked that she wouldn't marry anyone who made less than $40,000 a year, so Dave set out looking for a job that would please her enough to tie the knot. Kate's uncle partially owned a real estate agency, and so he agreed to hire Dave as an assistant. A year later, Dave took the realty exam and passed. A year after that, he proposed. Kate said yes.

They were both Catholic, and therefore avoided what their parents called "living in sin." They went on plenty of dates, but Dave lived in an apartment in downtown Sydney and Kate lived with her parents in the suburbs. She had majored in education, and was working at a day care, but made it clear that her eventual aspiration was to be a homemaker. Dave wanted kids, and had been raised to believe that contraception too was a sin, so he went along with the idea.

After a long engagement, they finally married when both were 25. Dave was a fairly successful realtor by this point—his sincerity and kindness making up for what he lacked in sales drive—and they were able to make a significant down payment on a house, with Kate's parents help. It was a two-bedroom bungalow in the suburbs, with a third bedroom that could be used as a playroom for their first child. At 28, Kate finally became pregnant.

The first child miscarried, and it was quite a shock for the two of them. It was then that they first joined a church closer to home, and began praying in earnest for a happy, healthy baby. Two years later, their wish came true, and Kate had a baby girl. Dave was overjoyed, and put most of his Saturdays into painting the nursery, building furniture for the baby, and rubbing Kate's tummy enthusiastically. He had always wanted kids, and secretly he thought the lack of pregnancy initially might be his fault.

Although he confessed regularly, Dave harboured a secret. He didn't much like having sex with Kate. It was okay, but it was difficult for thoughts of his wife to give him an erection, much less an orgasm. He had been a virgin when they met, and remained one until the day their marriage was consummated. He loved her, but rarely had sexual thoughts about his wife.

When the baby was born, their sex life slackened off, and Dave was almost relieved by this fact. He had produced one child, and he hated to think that his lack of a libido was going to be responsible for their inability to have another. In order to maintain the status quo, Dave threw himself into his work, often coming home late or bringing work home, and got involved with the church as well, dedicating many of his Saturdays to fundraisers or community projects.

This new enthusiasm worked out quite well, as Kate was all about improving the community, and had her own responsibilities to take care of. She quit teaching when the baby was born, and spent most of her time caring for her daughter, decorating and redecorating the house, and getting involved with her many friends, whether it was for knitting circle or book club or Bible study.

Dave decided not to mention to Kate that he knew how and liked to knit, too. He didn't think it'd go over too well.

After a long hot shower, Dave towelled off and brushed his teeth, sliding into bed as Kate headed to the bathroom and pulling the doona up to the level of his shoulder. By the time she came to bed, he was fast asleep.


	2. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Kate get a new neighbour.

"Honey, you will not _believe_ who's moved in next door to us!" Kate exclaimed as she navigated her car away from the building site, Eliza Jane fast asleep in her car seat in the back.

"What, the Johnson's old place?" Dave asked, running a towel across his damp forehead.

"Yes, God help us. I went over there today when I saw the moving trucks to bring the new people a cake, or rather new _person_. He's a single man."

"You don't say?"

"Hush, Dave, let me finish."

"Sorry."

"He's a single man from New Zealand, by the name of Craig Parker. He thanked me for the cake and invited me in for tea…"

"Well that was nice of him."

"Yes, well, that's not all. I invited him to come to church with us tomorrow, you know, since he's new to the neighbourhood and probably hasn't found a church yet, and he just flat out said no!"

"Is he Anglican?"

"He's not even Christian! He thanked me but says he doesn't go to church, and what's more I saw a little statue of the Buddha in his front room…"

"You know, I think Buddhism isn't technically a religion, honey. He could be Christian and just believe in Buddhist philosophy…"

"Davey, listen to you, you smart aleck. That's nonsense! The devil moves in mysterious ways, darling, and I won't have him catching up with you."

"He won't, sweetheart. I'm going to church in the morning same as always. I've just finished doing volunteer work for the church. I was raised Catholic, always have been Catholic."

"I know, darling, I'm sorry. It's just that I don't like this influence in the neighbourhood, on our baby girl…"

"Well, plenty of people aren't Christians, Kate," Dave reasoned. He admired his wife's upstanding faith, but he'd never realised quite how close-minded she could be sometimes. A little bit like his own mother, sure, but he tried in his own life to be a bit more careful not to judge other people.

"I know that. But it isn't just that, I think he may also be… well…"

"What? A Martian? A liberal?"

"Gay."

Dave raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I asked him why he left New Zealand, you know, just being polite. He told me that he's a writer and a theatre actor, and well, you know how those can be, but besides that, he said that he lived in Auckland and decided he needed a change of pace when his _partner_ left him. His partner!"

"Could have been a female partner."

"Davey, seriously. You just don't _say_ it like that with a girlfriend! It's your girlfriend, or your wife, or your fiancée, but I think the word 'partner' clearly implies a same sex relationship. And I just don't feel comfortable with people like that in our neighbourhood…"

"Kate. It's not as if he's trying to convert 'Liza," Dave interrupted, barely suppressing an eye roll. He knew homosexuality was an abomination, sure, but it wasn't _their_ business to eradicate it.

"Well you don't know that, do you? He might have parties! He might bring those people into the neighbourhood, and I don't want our daughter seeing such things, getting unnatural ideas about how the world works… I think you should talk to him."

"What??"

"Just go over there, tell him how our neighbourhood is. I'm not asking you to be mean to him; just let him know that it's a family-oriented community, and we prefer that… you know… deviant activities… be done in the privacy of one's own home."

"You've got to be kidding. Kate, no. I am not marching into that poor man's house and…"

"For me, Davey. Please?"

"I… Kate, I can't do that. I'm sorry. If there's a problem, we'll address it as it comes up, but I just don't believe that being gay is..."

"Wrong? Darling, you've read the scriptures."

"I know, I know I have, and… well I understand that lying with one's own sex is condemned in the Bible, but doesn't Jesus also ask us to love our fellow man? I can't just shun the poor guy."

"Fine, Davey. Maybe your heart is bigger than mine. But I will not have this man corrupting our neighbourhood."

Kate stared out the window, arms crossing her chest. Dave knew that it was final. He just wasn't sure he had it in his heart to obey.  



	3. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is a good Samaritan, and Craig gives him something in return.

The first two weeks of having Craig Parker as a next-door neighbour passed rather uneventfully. Kate did a little snooping, and found out that he spent most of his time during the day at home writing, and at night going to rehearsals for a Shakespeare production he was involved in as a dramaturge. She didn't like the idea of a man staying at home during the day, but at least he stayed within his house, and didn't seem to have the kind of parties she was afraid of.

Dave, for his part, almost never saw the guy. When he left for work in the morning, the shutters to the little one-storey house were almost always closed. When he came home, the car in the driveway was usually gone. He had seen Craig once or twice on a weekend, getting his mail, but that was about it. The man was fairly unremarkable from what Dave could tell. His appearance didn't scream "homosexual!" or "immorality!" He was just a man.

A man who, at eleven at night on his third Friday in Sydney, showed up on Dave's doorstep, soaked to the bone.

Dave had just been reading one of the books he sometimes indulged in when Kate was away, Kerouac's _On the Road._ Kate was spending the weekend with her parents, but she left Eliza Jane with Dave. So, when Craig appeared, explaining that there was a problem with his roof and he really didn't want to intrude, but there was a massive leak and he needed some help covering it up until the storm passed, Dave was alone.

"I'm really sorry to disturb you, but I just thought you might have some tarp or something, be able to give me a hand?" Craig looked extremely apologetic, almost afraid of Dave. Dave grinned, amused that anyone would have that impression of _him_, and gestured the man inside.

"Please, come in. I'll just run back to the garage, I'm sure we have something."

"Oh, I can wait here. I don't want to get your carpet wet…"

"Nonsense! You're soaked, mate! I don't want you to catch your death out there," Dave insisted, gesturing Craig in and shutting the front door behind him. "Besides," he added with a conspiratorial smile. "My wife's gone for the weekend. It'll dry before she gets home."

Craig laughed genuinely at that, and Dave couldn't help but notice the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth when he did so. Blushing slightly, he led the way through the house and out to the garage, where he was able to find some clear plastic folded up from a project, as well as a hammer and nails and some heavy-duty tape to secure it.

"I'm Dave, by the way," Dave introduced himself as he handed Craig the folded tarp and wrapped a tool belt around his own waist, putting the hammer, nails, and tape in the pockets. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to welcome you to the neighbourhood, yet…"

"Oh, it's fine. I know your wife wasn't too thrilled to have me here. I'm used to the cold shoulder," Craig replied with a shrug.

Dave frowned. "Well, I'd hate for anyone to think of us that way. Kate, she's just… well, she's set in her ways. And I'm sorry, that she gave you that impression, but she really does have a good heart. She just has a certain narrow view of scripture…"

"Do you share that view?" Craig asked as they headed back into the main house, his tone not accusatory but genuinely curious.

"Well…" Dave paused a minute, not really sure of his answer. "I don't know," he finally replied honestly. "I'm Catholic, but I… I mean, I believe that Christ wanted us to love our neighbours, so…." Dave shrugged. "Whatever your lifestyle is, mate, I don't have a problem with it. It's your business. Just don't tell my wife or priest that," he added with a smile.

Craig chuckled and nodded. "Your secret's safe with me. Besides, I doubt there will be anything all that scandalous to report from my side of the fence. I'm a pretty quiet guy, and after the last relationship, I think I'm swearing off men for a while."

"Damn, I'm sorry," Dave replied as he pulled his rain slicker from the closet and tugged it over his head. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, different goals, I guess. He said I was too romantic… some gay men think that romance is entirely for women, you know, that we should do nothing but have sex all the time, and that monogamy is overrated. At least, it was for him."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry, mate. That must have been hell."

Craig shrugged. "Yeah, well, it was time for a change. So, you ready to brave the storm?"

Dave grinned and nodded. "I'll tell you a secret. I love summer storms. Before I was married, I used to go outside and run around in them, in my clothing. I just got completely soaked and stood there with my arms out and my head back. Haven't done that in years, though."

Craig grinned. "I've gotta say, mate. I don't envy you. This marriage thing doesn't sound like all it's cracked up to be if you can't even run in the rain."

Dave laughed at that, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, we all make our sacrifices. But we'd better get going before your house becomes one of those sacrifices!"

And with that, the two men hurried out into the storm, running through the soaked lawns to Craig's front door, which was unlocked and quickly thrown open. "Right, then, it's just up in the attic. You might as well leave your mac on; it's pretty bad."

Dave followed Craig to a pull-down door in the ceiling, and then up a wooden ladder to an attic that was quickly becoming soaked, a good bit of plaster and several roof tiles sitting on the attic floor along with some stray twigs that had blown in.

"All right, mate. Why don't you hold the edge of the tarp here, outside of the damaged area, and I'll nail it down?" Dave yelled over the roar of the rain. Craig nodded in agreement and held the tarp up, and they quickly got to work, nailing a plastic square in place to cover the hole from the outside, and then finishing it off from the inside and reinforcing with tape.

"I can't promise that'll be completely leak-proof," Dave admitted when they were through. "But it'll at least hold till morning, and then we can assess the damage and call someone out here. I know a guy…"

Craig stopped Dave with a hand on his shoulder, smiling brightly. "Dave. You've done more than enough, mate. You don't need to help any more than you already have. I'll find somebody…"

"No, I insist. Come on, I've got nothing better to do. Now let's get this mess cleaned up," he suggested, gesturing to the debris surrounding them. Craig smiled and agreed, and they spent the next hour in amiable conversation, getting everything salvageable sorted and the rest thrown away. When they were through, Dave was almost reluctant to go. It was the first time in a while that he had spent a considerable amount of time with anyone other than his wife, members of the congregation, or his co-workers, and it was refreshing.

"Well, I'd better head back. My daughter's sleeping, and I've already left her alone for a while…"

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry about that."

"Hey, no problem. It was wonderful to meet you, Craig…"

"Yeah, you too. Hey, I have an idea, though. Can you spare five more minutes?"

Dave raised an eyebrow in question. "Yeah, I guess…"

"C'mon, then. Take off your mac for a second."

"Okay…" Dave gave Craig a sceptical look, but pulled the wet slicker over his head and draped it on a chair.

"Relax, Dave, I'm not going to molest you. Leave your tool belt, too."

Dave laughed at the voicing of an unspoken fear which he realized strangely he hadn't even been experiencing, and undid his belt, placing it on the chair as well.

"Great. Now follow me."

At first, Dave just stared as Craig opened his front door and ran out into the rain, but after a moment, laughing loudly, he followed, joining Craig in the middle of his front lawn and splashing through the puddles, his arms held out to the sides as he spun around and around, shrieking with joy, his head tilted back as the rainwater slicked down his face and plastered his hair to his scalp. Craig grinned and gave chase, making it halfway around the house before they fell next to each other with a splash in the backyard. Dave's clothes were soaked, and more than a little muddy, but he felt freer than he had in years. Turning his head to the side, he saw Craig, eyes closed and mouth open in laughter, and his heart soared. Dave suspected that finally, after years of marriage and adulthood, he had found a good candidate for a best friend.


	4. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave makes some admissions over tea.

The next morning, Dave brought Eliza Jane over to Craig's house and sat her high chair in Craig's kitchen while the two men called up the roofing company where Dave's friend worked and finished cleaning up the mess in the attic. The sun was bright overhead thankfully, the storm having passed, and while they waited for the workers to come Craig and Dave sat in the kitchen and played with Eliza.

Dave was more than a little surprised at Craig's aptitude with kids, given his sexual orientation. He had never thought of gay men as being the fathering type, as he assumed that disposition would ultimately lead to a desire for marriage to a woman, but Craig defied the stereotype. And so, when his boss called at noon and insisted that he go show a house to a young couple who had just called, he had few reservations about leaving Eliza Jane with Craig for a few hours.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't expect that would take so long!" Dave apologised as he stepped in the side door of Craig's house in dress shirt and khakis, his briefcase at his side. He smiled to himself when Craig hurried into the kitchen on tiptoe, his finger to his lips in a shushing motion as he walked over to take Dave's jacket.

"I just put her down for a nap twenty minutes ago," he explained, hanging the jacket in the hall closet. "I hope you don't mind staying a little longer; I haven't got the heart to wake her."

"Sure, that's no problem," Dave answered with a smile. "Where's she sleeping?"

"In my bed. Don't worry, I made a little barricade with cushions so she can't roll off."

"Brilliant." Dave smiled as Craig led him into the dining room and was surprised to find the table set with little sandwiches, tarts, and a lovely china tea set.

"I thought you might like tea," Craig explained with a shrug, taking a seat on one side of the round table as Dave took the other.

"It looks fantastic," Dave praised. "I didn't even realise I was hungry."

"Well, eat up! I love to cook, but I always end up making too much."

"This really does look wonderful. Makes me miss cooking myself."

"Yeah? Why don't you anymore?" Craig inquired as he poured David a cup of tea.

"My wife. She prefers to do the cooking and cleaning, you know, woman's work."  
Craig wrinkled his nose but didn't verbally object, and Dave just laughed. "She's a very traditional woman," Dave explained. "I guess it gives her something to do, you know, makes her feel valuable."

"Did she work before you were married?"

"Yeah, she used to teach. She puts her whole life into mothering Eliza Jane now, and to some extent, mothering me," Dave admitted with a little laugh. "She's well suited for it, but I have to admit I'd gladly trade places with her."

"What, you'd like to be a homemaker?"

"Well, not a _homemaker_ so much, but… well I guess I envy you. I'd love to work at home, keep my own schedule."

"What do you think you'd do?" Craig asked as he sipped his tea.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I'd be an artist, though I doubt I could make a living at it."

"Yeah? What kind of art do you do?"

"Well, used to do. I was an art history major in college before Kate got me to switch to business, and I used to do photography and even paint a little. But I haven't done that in years. I like to knit, too, but you can't tell a _soul_, Craig, I'm serious."

Craig grinned and raised two fingers. "Scout's honour. No one would believe me, anyway. But you should teach me sometime. I'd love to learn to knit."

Dave just rolled his eyes. "C'mon, mate. That is so stereotypical."

"What? I like crafts! Besides, you want to talk about stereotypical…"

"Oh, you are not…."

"Think about it, Dave. Knitting, cooking, art, living at home… you want to talk about stereotypes…"

Dave pouted and shook his head. "I have a wife and daughter."

"Gay people have families too, you know."

"You don't."

"I'm not the poster child of the entire species, love."

Dave blushed a deep crimson at the familiar endearment, and quickly grabbed a sandwich and began munching with a spectacular focus. Craig frowned and reached out, touching his arm.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. You're making an effort to treat me like any other person, and here I am making fun of you."

"It's fine," Dave mumbled. "You _are_ like any other person. And I'm not. I've always been different."

"Different how?" Craig asked in a soft tone, scooting his chair around to the side to listen to Dave.

"I just… I'm not like other guys. You're right. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I like things that other guys don't like. I'd much rather be an artist than a realtor. I built up my entire life for my wife, but… I know it's horrible, and it's not what a Christian husband should do, but I just have these dreams that have nothing to do with her…"

"Like what?" Craig prodded.

"Like…I've thought about graphic arts, you know. I have a computer, and I found an illegal copy of Photoshop online… God, Kate would kill me for stealing, but it's so great. The things you can do with the technology… well I'd like to do that for a living, from home. But that wouldn't work for us. Kate likes to stay at home too much."

"Why couldn't you both stay at home?"

"Well… I need my time alone. I value my privacy, and I love Kate but she tends to hover. She has very developed opinions…"

"And doesn't let you have your own?"

"Not really," Dave agreed with a shrug. "I just… God, this is really bad, but… sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't married her." Dave sucked in a breath through his teeth, as if he expected God to strike him down right there, and Craig gave him a sympathetic smile.

"It's okay to doubt, Dave. Not everyone stays in love forever, you know?"

"But… I'm Catholic. I always have been Catholic."

"I don't follow."

"We don't divorce."

"Oh. Right. Well… I don't know what to tell you, mate, but it sounds as if you aren't completely happy with your life, and there are changes you might want to make. Everyone has to make sacrifices, but you may or may not be making the right ones."

"I don't know, Craig, I… have you ever been in love?"

"Yeah. Twice," Craig replied.

"And… how did you know?" Dave asked, his voice shaking.

"I… I just knew, I guess. I felt completely comfortable, you know, like I had finally met someone that really clicked. And the second time, I had almost stopped believing in love, and then a man came around that changed my mind," Craig explained with a sad smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that was…"

"Yeah. The guy who cheated. But it's fine. I did love him, for a time."

"I've never been in love," Dave admitted, his eyes lowered and his voice impossibly small. Craig didn't answer, but just reached out and squeezed Dave's knee comfortingly until he was ready to continue. "I think I've known for a while, but I didn't want to admit it. I just… it's horrible, you know? I don't know what to do, and I vowed to love my wife forever and to protect her, and I just don't. I care deeply for Kate, and she always seemed the perfect girl for me, but she was the only girl. She came along, she was interested, she wrote the rules and I followed them."

"You never had a choice in the matter?"

"I never needed one. Love wasn't important to me. I found a girl that made my parents happy, who was fun and driven, and I married her."

"And now I guess you're paying for that."

"I guess."

"It's okay to be scared, Dave."

"I…" Dave took in a shuddering breath, his head still lowered, and Craig realized he was crying. "I'm so scared," he admitted in a whisper, and Craig instinctively scooted his chair forward and pulled Dave into a hug.

"It's all right, honey, let it all out…"

Dave cried in gulping sobs, his tears flowing freely, and he vaguely registered that he had never heard a man call another man 'honey' before. But it was comforting, and Craig was comforting, and Dave hadn't cried in years. By the time he finished, the tea was cold and Eliza Jane was awake, but Dave felt better than he had in a long time.  



	5. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's wedding anniversary isn't exactly a celebration

It was two weeks before Dave saw Craig again. When Kate found out that he had left their daughter with the neighbour while at work, she was livid and forbade him to spend any time with Craig. He did manage to slip an apologetic note in the man's mailbox one morning, though, and Dave found a pleasant response tucked under his windscreen wiper the next day.

For two weeks, it was sunny, but this night, a Saturday, the rain was relentless again. And, though it was nearly midnight, Craig opened his front door at the sound of the bell and found Dave, wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama pants, absolutely soaked.

"Hey, I'm really sorry, I just didn't know where else to…"

"Don't worry about it, mate, please, come in," Craig urged, gesturing for Dave to come inside and locking the door behind him. "Here, have a seat in the kitchen, I'll grab you a towel and you can tell me what happened."

Sure enough, Craig returned with a big fluffy towel, wrapping it around Dave's shoulders, and put the kettle on for tea before pulling up a chair and sitting facing him. "Hey, wasn't tonight you and Kate's…?"

"Wedding anniversary, yeah. It was."

"Oh. Where's 'Liza?"

"At her grandmother's."

"Are you all right?" Craig asked, noting Dave's kicked puppy look.

"Not… not really. Did I ever tell you about my family, Craig?"

Craig frowned, not really seeing the connection, but shook his head. "No, you didn't."

"I'm the youngest of seven," Dave explained.

"Damn!"

"Yeah. We're Catholic, you know, so…."

"No birth control?"

"Right. I have five older sisters and one older brother. My parents are still married, of course, though I'm not honestly sure, God help me, that that's best. But anyway, that's six siblings, all older, all successful, all my parents' pride and joy."

Craig waited, patiently, rubbing Dave's knees comfortingly as he got his story out.

"In high school, I was a bit of a nerd. I liked arts and stuff; I wasn't a typical teenaged boy. My mother worried about me. And so, when I met Kate, she was thrilled. Kate was the cheerleading captain, I don't know if I mentioned that. She was homecoming queen our junior year. She was gorgeous, still is, obviously. And we became best friends."

"Not lovers?"

"Not yet. We got along well, though. I complimented her well, you know, I was kind of shy and she loved to talk. She had great plans—big, detailed plans—and I fit nicely into them. She wanted me to study business, so I did. She wanted me to have a good job, so I took the realty exam. She wanted to get married, and I proposed. She wanted a child, and I…" Dave paused here, coughing. "I…"

"Gave her one?" Craig smiled, sympathetically, squeezing Dave's leg. Dave shut his eyes.

"Craig, I've never told this to anyone but the priest, but… well I've always wanted kids, but I never really wanted to have sex with a girl. I was afraid there was something unnatural about me, you know? I tried everything I could think of to make it appealing, but the problem just didn't come up until we were married, because of my religion. I'd never even kissed a girl before Kate came along. She thought that was sweet, but… well…"

"It's okay, honey, take your time," Craig urged. "Here, let me get you some tea," he suggested, standing up and pouring a cup of the hot water over a bag. Dave tried not to think about the feeling of loss when Craig stepped away.

"It's really hard to say this out loud, but… our wedding night, it was the first time I ever tried having sex with a girl, and… it didn't work."

"You didn't get an erection?" Craig guessed.

"Not even close. I guess I just… never felt that way, towards her. I mean, she's beautiful, and I'm attracted to that aesthetically, but it never made me… horny, I guess." Dave blushed deeply and Craig wanted to hug him, the poor man was so innocent, but clearly Dave was deeply troubled.

"Did it get better, then? After the first time?"

"Well yeah, a little. Kate was understanding, and she didn't pressure me. I learned how to make myself enjoy it enough to get hard, and I figured out how to pleasure her in other ways, which helped a lot, but it was really hard for me to, you know…"

"Come?" Craig suggested when it was apparent Dave wasn't going to be able to speak the word.

"Yeah, that," Dave agreed, blushing so deeply Craig could've sworn his bare chest was tinged pink. "Well, you know, that didn't help much trying to have a kid. The first one was miscarried, and I suspect that might have been my fault…"

"What? Why?"

"Because I didn't _want_ to have sex with my wife. Because God knew that the act of conceiving that child wasn't something I enjoyed."

"And Eliza Jane?"

"Well, we prayed a lot together for a baby. That's when we started seeing our marriage counsellor, as well. And we finally were successful."

"You must have been relieved."

"Oh, you have no idea. And I was so happy to be a father, you know, despite the fact that I don't like sex, I really did want kids."

"I can see that with Eliza. You make a wonderful father," Craig said with a smile.

Dave grinned at that, taking a sip of his tea. "Thank you. That means a lot. You know, for a while I thought I might be unfit to be a father. I don't love my wife, and that's not right. That's not the kind of house you want to raise a child in. Kate is always talking about bad influences; she even says you're a bad influence and doesn't want Eliza growing up around you, but I think she's wrong. Being the child of a loveless marriage has to be worse, no matter what kind of a charade we might put on."

"Do you think your marriage is a charade, then?" Craig asked.

"I… I don't know. Kate and I are comfortable. I work, she takes care of our daughter, we go to church and volunteer. We're just the kind of family you would want to raise a child in."

"But you're not happy."

"Not entirely. But maybe I want too much, Craig. Maybe love is too much to ask for. I don't want to tempt fate….'

"You deserve love, David. You really do."

"I… how do you know that?" Dave asked, his gaze sincere. Craig felt slightly lost in those blue eyes, and had to take a deep breath before saying something he shouldn't.

"You're a good person. You really are, whether you believe it or not. And everyone deserves the chance to fall in love."

"Well… I've missed that chance," Dave replied, sighing and staring at his hands folded in his lap. "And now I'm afraid I've fucked things up irrevocably."

"How? What happened tonight?"

"I took Kate out to dinner like I'd planned, and it was nice. We went to a restaurant we both like, we went dancing at her parent's country club, and then we came home. And… Craig, she hasn't asked me to sleep with her in nearly a year. Our marriage counsellor says it's not necessary, and perfectly healthy for a busy couple with a young child. But tonight, she said she had such a great time, and then she started undressing…"

"Did that make you uncomfortable?"

"You have no idea. I panicked, I asked if there wasn't something she'd rather do, and she said of course not, that she wanted to make love to her husband. And then she accused me of being… abnormal."

"Dave, you're not…"

"You don't know that!" Dave replied, a little harshly. "She… she said that she can't handle it anymore, that I don't satisfy her, and I'm not fulfilling my vows to her. She asked me when the last time I felt truly happy was, and… I don't know where that question came from, but I couldn't answer it."

"You don't remember when?"

"No, I do remember. It was two weeks ago. Outside, in the rain. With you."

Craig sucked in a breath. "Oh."

"Yeah. So what was I supposed to say? 'Sorry honey, I haven't been happy with you in over a year, but I had a fantastic weekend with my new friend a couple of weeks ago, who, oh yeah, happens to be homosexual?' She'd have a heart attack!"

Craig snorted. "I'm not trying to convert you."

"Well I know that!"

"Does she?"

"I don't know… you don't think she suspects that I'm…"

Craig shrugged. "She might. You could fix that pretty easily though by telling her you're not. But that still leaves a big problem."

"I don't love my wife."

"Right."

"God, I am so freaking screwed. No, actually, you know what? I'm so _fucking_ screwed," Dave corrected himself, grinning widely at the use of a word that Kate generally banned. "And I am a _fucking_ adult, and I can make my own _fucking_ decisions!"

Craig grinned in return, and soon found himself with his arms full of a wet, warm, shirtless Dave. He bit his lip, hard.

"Thanks, Craig. You're the best."

"I didn't actually do anything…"

"No. You did," Dave insisted, not letting go. "I've never had a friend quite like you," he whispered, still clinging tightly.

"Me neither, Dave. Me neither."  



	6. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Craig get to know each other more.

"Do you confess about me?"

"What?" Dave's look was incredulous, yet amused, as Craig's eyes stayed firmly locked on his needles, his fingers painstakingly slow as they completed the purling motion.

"You know, at confession. At church," Craig clarified. "Do you have to confess every time you hang out with your gay friend?"

Dave laughed and shook his head. "Nah. I'm not doing anything wrong. The Bible doesn't say we can't hang out with gay people, just that we shouldn't _be_ gay. Or 'lie with men,' rather."

"Yeah, and that kind of fits in the job description," Craig pointed out with a cheeky grin. "Aw, fuck! Dropped a stitch."

"Here, don't panic. Let me." Craig stilled his fingers as Dave leaned over him on the couch, his fingers deftly working to fix the row of loops on Craig's needle. "There. All better."

"Thanks. You do realize it's going to be years before I ever have a scarf, right?"

"Hey, that's fine with me. I've got plenty of spare years to spend, and if I ever knit at my own house my wife will have a panic attack."

Craig burst out laughing. "What did you tell her, anyway? Does she know you're here?"

"Said you were having trouble with your roof again. Good Samaritan and all."

"Ooh. Isn't there a 'thou shalt not lie' in there somewhere?"

"Shut up." Dave blushed as he finished off a row. "For that I am knitting you a hot pink boa for your birthday."

"I'll wear it proudly, and you know it!"

Dave smiled and shook his head. "I don't know. If I didn't know you were gay, I'd never guess it. You're not so…"

"Camp?"

"Yeah."

"You should meet some of the guys in the productions I've been in. But yeah, I'm only camp when I want to be. And that's not too often."

"Then you're definitely getting the boa. And you'll be wearing it in your Christmas card photo, which I'll be taking."

"Hey, I don't know if I can afford you, Mr. Photographer. What do you charge?"

"Ha, I wish. Photography isn't a 'real' profession any more than graphic arts."

"Your wife is such a bitch sometimes." Dave's eyes went wide, almost dropping his knitting as he stared at Craig. "What? It's true! You know it, I'm just stating facts."

"Well, I mean, she's a little straight-laced…"

"You say potato, I say…"

"Okay, I get it. But Kate means well."

"I'm sure she does. I still wish she didn't treat you like shit."

"She doesn't. A lot of that is my fau…"

"No." Craig stopped Dave midsentence, setting his knitting in his lap and grabbing Dave's face in both hands. "Promise me you won't ever say that again."

"Craig, I can't…"

"Promise."

"Fine, I'll try my best not to say it again."

"Fair enough. Or I will beat you with a knitting needle."

"Kinky."

For a long moment, Craig Parker was speechless.

 

"Have you ever considered acting?"

"What? No! I'm a shy man, Craig…"

"You'd be a natural straight man."

"Think about that sentence."

"Well, that too. You haven't got a bent bone in your body."

"Are you implying something about my lack of fashion sense, Parker?"

"No, I'm pointing out that your wife is away for the weekend again and therefore you've shown up at my house to make me dinner and yet you find _nothing_ suspicious about that arrangement."

"Oh." Dave blushed, stirring in grated Parmesan and pointedly not looking at Craig.

"I'm just saying. It speaks well for your innocence."

"I'm not innocent!"

Craig raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not!"

"You've never kissed anyone who wasn't your wife."

"You don't know that!"

"You said Kate was the first person you'd ever kissed."

"I might have cheated on her."

"You haven't. I know you too well."

"Okay, fine. I've never kissed anyone else. It's beside the point though, now."

"Have you ever even half-considered divorce? I don't mean to be devil's advocate, but…"

"It's not an option."

"What if there's a woman out there that you could fall in love with?"

"I've never been that attracted to other women…"

"What if there's a man?"

For about ten seconds, absolute silence descended on the house.

Then, Craig burst out laughing.

"Kidding! Kidding…"

"You little…."

 

"I got a raise yesterday."

"You're kidding! Dave, that's great!"

Dave grinned as Craig pulled him into a tight hug in the aisle of the supermarket. "I know. Shit job, but at least they're paying me for it. I'm thinking of maybe getting a laptop…"

"Wait, don't you have a computer?"

"Well, I do, but it's a desktop, and Kate has access to it…"

"You're going to buy a secret computer?" Craig grinned.

"Yeah, I think so. You know, so I can mess with some new graphics programs…"

"Dave, you little sneak! I love it!"

Dave grinned widely, grabbing an apple and dropping it into his basket. "So I was thinking, you know, maybe I could keep it at your place? If you don't mind…"

"Sure, that's cool."

"Thanks! That'd be great… I'm thinking of maybe doing some freelance work through the Internet, actually, you know, see if I can establish myself…"

"Really? You're not quitting your real estate job…"

"Well, no, but I'm just thinking… well, I've been thinking."

Craig nodded. "You can take your time, you know. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"Or destroyed." David sighed. "I should go."

"Hey, cheer up sunshine." Craig tossed him a pack of Milk Duds, winking. "Eat in the car. I swear to God she'll never know.

Dave grinned widely. "See you later, Craig."

 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Craig asked blearily, rubbing his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be in church?"

"Said I was sick. Is it here?" Dave was bouncing on his toes like an excited puppy. Craig just waved him in and sighed as he went to make the coffee.

"In my bedroom. Still in the box." Craig had a few moments peace as he spooned the coffee grinds into the filter, and then the inevitable happy squeal issued from the bedroom.

"It's perfect!"

"You custom-ordered it, Daisy. Of course it's perfect!" Craig rolled his eyes to himself, flipping the switch on the coffee maker and heading back to his room. Dave had told him about the nickname his sisters sometimes used, and Craig thought it fit him perfectly, a small and seemingly insignificant but beautiful flower.

"Well it's different seeing it in person," Dave insisted, bouncing onto the bed with his legs tucked under him and pulling out all his computer's accessories. He shifted a bit as he pulled out the external mouse, though, and frowned slightly. "What the hell…?"

Craig watched sleepily as Dave fished around under the sheet for the source of his discomfort, and then his eyes suddenly went wide as he realized what had happened, diving forward to grab the object before Dave could touch it.

"Is that a…. oh my God, you have a purple dildo!" Dave exclaimed gleefully as Craig blushed bright pink and hid it safely away in a drawer. "Craig, have you been getting some action that I need to know about?" Dave wriggled his eyebrows and Craig laughed at his innocent churchgoing friend's newfound nonchalance about such things. Whether he realized it or not, Dave was changing.

"Daisy, if I were getting action, why would I _need_ a dildo?" Craig pointed out.

Dave seemed to ponder it for a moment, and then blushed even brighter than Craig. "Oh. You really… I mean… you put that… up there… for fun?"

Craig snorted. "Yes, Dave. I'm gay. I happen to like sticking things up my arse on occasion, believe it or not."

"Oh. I figured it was only… I mean the only good part was… you know… being on top."

Craig just smiled at Dave's embarrassment and shook his head. "Actually no. Both ways are good. Do you know where your prostate is, Dave?"

Dave frowned and nodded. "Yeah, it's that thing back there, you know, that they have to check for cancer…."

Craig rolled his eyes. "Well yeah, but it's got a function other than giving you cancer, darling."

Dave looked suspicious, computer forgotten. "What?"

"You can get to it, you know, from inside your arse. It's wired pretty much directly to your dick, and it feels _extremely_ good when touched. Or rubbed. Like during sex."

"Oh… really?" Dave looked fairly shocked by this revelation, and Craig grinned, nodding.

"Yeah. Hence the big purple dildo. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Yeah, um, I think I prefer the computer, thanks."

Craig barked out a laugh and went to get his coffee.   



	7. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave gets a divorce and frets, Craig makes things better.

Surprisingly enough, in the end, it was Kate who filed for a separation. A week before Eliza Jane's third birthday, Dave confessed to a priest that he was considering divorcing his wife. As this went against the sacraments of the Catholic Church, the young priest thought he was doing the couple a favour by informing Kate of her husband's intentions. A few days later, Kate presented Dave with some papers to sign. He felt surprisingly free.

On Eliza Jane's birthday, it becoming painfully clear what was happening. When Dave showed up for the party, Kate's brothers took it upon themselves to inform him that he was not invited. The black eye he got for hurting their baby sister was carefully tended to by Craig in his master bathroom while Craig laughingly told stories of the times he had been beat up in primary school for his sexuality.

Before too long, a few more things became clear. Dave was no longer welcome in the church. Not only had he committed the sin in his heart of considering a divorce (no matter who actually carried out the deed) but he was known to be staying with a homosexual in the interim. Clearly, Kate had a valid reason for her actions. In addition, some communication with Kate's lawyer made it clear that she was taking Dave out to dry for pretty much all he was worth. The house, the savings, the car, it would all be hers. Craig offered to find him a good lawyer, but none of that was important to him. What was important was his daughter. He planned to fight for visitation rights, but in the meantime, he concentrated on the fact that he had been promptly fired by Kate's uncle and needed to get established as a graphic artist a little quicker than originally planned.

After the third time Dave offered Craig some rent, he finally told Dave a story.

"I know this is probably surprising to you, because I don't live that way at all, but, well, I'm pretty rich. Or rather, filthy rich. Disgustingly rich. I don't even want to give you numbers because they make me slightly ill sometimes."

"But, your writing, and your plays…"

"I enjoy them. I love to act, and I love to write. I always have. But that doesn't change the fact that my parents are dead, and that I have an inheritance to make Solomon blush."

"Oh. You never told me your parents died."

"Yeah, I… don't like to talk about it."

"Oh." Dave took a look at Craig's expression and instinctively reached a hand out to brush his cheek. "I'm sorry."

Craig looked up and smiled. "Don't worry about the money, Daisy. You get your daughter back. And stay here as long as you like."

"I'm not in the way?"

"You're so far from out of the way you're in the next room. Come on, then. Let's order a pizza and get really, really drunk."

Dave grinned. "Sounds perfect."

 

After a few weeks, Dave and Craig got into something of a routine. For the first time in years, Dave routinely slept till eleven in the morning. When he got up, Craig would usually be in the shower. Dave would pour himself a bowl of the chocolate cereal Craig always on hand that had been his favourite as a kid, and then he would sit down to work. He had a few freelance gigs designing layouts for company websites, and so he would spend some of the afternoon working and the rest trying to advertise his services to more potential clients.

During the day, Craig would also be working, writing usually, or occasionally memorizing lines, and they would often sit together on the couch, though not talking, their legs stretched out towards the centre and their computers in their laps. When Dave finished his work for the day, he would fix dinner for the two of them, always getting a lot of praise from Craig, who loved his cooking. After dinner, Craig would head off to rehearsals, and Dave would go over whatever his lawyer had most recently emailed him about the impending custody case. By the time Craig got back around ten or eleven, Dave would usually be asleep on the couch with the History channel on the telly. Craig would cover him in Craig's mother's afghan, sit on the couch with a beer, and finish whatever the programme was, and then wake Dave up to shower and sleep.

One Saturday, almost a month after the separation, Dave was sitting in the kitchen with a stack of notes and papers, preparing to appear in court on Monday. Craig sat across from him, coffee in hand, looking over whatever Dave didn't have in hand at the moment and frowning.

"So they're pretty much planning to go all out with the character attack?"

"Pretty much," Dave agreed, sighing. "They might not do too well with it in this district, but if they can get some sympathetic moms and dads on the jury, I'm screwed."

"I don't see why. You're a good father. Can't you prove that?"

"Not really. The only people who've ever seen me as a father are you and Kate. I don't exactly have a ton of friends, Craig."

"So let me testify!"

"Um… that might not be a very good idea."

"Why?"

"Kate's going for the unfit parent gay angle thing," Dave mumbled.

"What? But you're not gay! I'm gay, what does that have to do with…"

"We can't prove that we're not together, Craig."

"But we're… not! I mean, come on…."

"No, but we can't prove it. Think about it, Craig. I've been living with you for weeks, alone. You're openly gay. If it comes down to it, Kate can testify that I've never been able to have sex with her… well, successfully, for any length of time. It's a pretty good argument, you have to admit."

"I guess. But I mean, you're not."

"I know that, and you know that. The jury doesn't know that."

"Well, so what if you are? Even if the jury thinks you're gay, that doesn't mean you're an unfit parent!"

"I hope you're right, but… I just don't know that they'll buy that. I'm scared, Craig."

"Well, how about… I mean, you could move out, you know, until this all blows over. You could get a hotel, I'll pay for it…"

"No. Please Craig, don't… I can't handle that. I can't… I know I haven't…. this is hard, Craig. It's really hard. I can't go through this without a friend," Dave admitted. His expression was so hurt that Craig immediately was on the other side of the table, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Hey, Daisy, it's okay honey… don't fret… we'll get your girl back, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Till the day I die," Craig promised with a smile. And what was scary was that he meant it.


	8. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza spends the weekend with Dave and Craig, and Dave tries praying again.

While Dave didn't quite win the custody case, he didn't lose it, either. Kate was able to secure full custody of Eliza Jane, but Dave managed visitation rights of two weekends a month. This was less than he'd like to see his daughter, ideally, but at least Kate couldn't go against a court-ordered visitation policy.

And so, Christmas wasn't quite as depressing as it could have been that year. Though Dave didn't get to see his daughter, who was being shunted off to Kate's family celebration, Craig only spent a couple of days in New Zealand with his family before coming back home to Dave, and he knew that Eliza would be coming over that Saturday.

And before Dave's first weekend with Eliza, Craig surprised him by bringing home a kid-sized trundle bed with wooden safety rails that could slide down for easy storage underneath Dave's own bed in the guest room. Kate grudging delivered Eliza at half-ten, and to Dave's delight, she squealed happily and yelled "Daddy!" as she was transferred into his arms, assuaging his fears that Kate had managed to turn Eliza off to him altogether.

"So, sugar, what do you want to do today?" Dave asked, bouncing her on his hip as they walked into the living room where Craig was sitting watching cartoons with his coffee.

"Toons!!!" she squealed happily. "Want to watch toons with your friend, Daddy!"

Craig grinned widely at the little girl's reaction and patted a spot on the couch next to him. "It's got your name on it, sweetheart."

"Really?" Eliza quickly scrambled to the couch cushion when Dave set her down on the carpet and inspected the cushion critically.

"It's an expression, honey. It means he wants you to sit with him."

"Oh. Okay!"

Dave grinned widely when Eliza hopped up onto the couch, sitting in her little pink dress with her legs sticking straight out in front of her, completely focused on the cartoon after thirty seconds. Craig took a minute to fill her in on what she had missed, and Dave wished he had his camera on hand to capture the moment.

Instead, Dave left the "kids" to their television and headed for the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of chocolate cereal to eat while Eliza wasn't looking and a cup of coffee. By the time he had finished his breakfast and the Arts &amp; Entertainment section of the paper, thundering footsteps alerted him to the end of the cartoon. Eliza ran into the kitchen, followed by Craig at a more sedate pace, and stopped next to Dave's chair, holding her arms up to be lifted into his lap. He laughed and obliged, smiling at Craig who took a seat on the other side of the table.

"So, my little pumpkin pie, you haven't answered my question yet. What do you want to do today? It's nearly eleven o clock already!"

"That's still early," Eliza reasoned, thumbing through the pictures in the paper, which she could barely reach. "Can we go to the park today? And get Popsicles?"

"Hmm, I think that's an acceptable plan," Dave agreed. "We'd better get you changed first though. Did your mom put any play clothes in your overnight bag?"

"Yeah. My t-shirt and dungarees."

"Perfect. And what do you say we have some lunch on the way?"

"Okay. Can he come?" she asked, pointing at Craig. Dave grinned at him over her head.

"Of course he can. But he has a name, silly."

"Well you didn't _tell_ me his name, Daddy!"

"Oh, my mistake. Miss Eliza Jane Wenham, meet Mr. Craig Parker."

Crawling forward in Dave's lap, Eliza reached across the table as far as she could. "Pweased to meet you, Mister Parker."

Craig grinned and leaned across the table to take her small hand, kissing it playfully. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Wenham. But please, call me Craig."

"Okay, Craig! You can call me 'Liza. But are you coming with us?"

"I don't know, 'Liza. Would you like me to?"

"Of course, silly! You're daddy's bestest friend, aren't you? So you're my friend too."

Craig grinned. "Well as a matter of fact, my dear, I think you may be right. Dave, that all right with you?"

"Of course it is," Dave replied, rolling his eyes. "Couldn't get rid of you if I wanted to."

"Which you don't."

"Which I don't," Dave agreed, sharing a secret smile with Craig over Eliza's head.

 

Much to Eliza Jane's delight, the carousel in the park was running that afternoon, and so after a hamburger lunch, they proceeded on to the pavilion under which the big old carousel sat, surrounded by moms and their kids.

"You mind taking her? I want to snap some photos," Dave suggested, raising the camera around his neck as they walked down the path with Eliza in the middle, one of her hands in each of the men's.

"Sure thing. Want to go on the carousel with Uncle Craig, 'Liza?"

Eliza grinned at Craig and nodded enthusiastically, letting go of Dave's hand and dragging Craig towards the ticket booth. "You're much more fun than my other uncles! Mummy's brothers are silly, and Daddy's sisters wear _way_ too much makeup," she confided.

Craig giggled and allowed himself to be led off while Dave watched the two of them with a huge smile on his face. Surely this wasn't the "depraved household" Kate feared? Dave missed his church and feared his family's opinion of his situation, but he was happier living with Craig than he ever had been with Kate, more so now that he could see his daughter.

As he snapped photos of the two most important people in his life, whirling around on the elaborately decorated painted wood horses, Dave wondered. He wondered if Craig was really happy in this situation. He seemed to be, but having Dave stay with him surely couldn't help his love life all that much. He wondered if it was normal that he had much more fun with his gay best friend than he ever had with his wife. And he wondered, most of all, if it was all too good to last.

 

"Well, that was a lot of fun," Craig commented Sunday afternoon when Eliza Jane was gone, the two of them sitting on the couch together and waiting for the ordered pizza to arrive.

"Yeah. Kate sure was pissed as hell that I didn't take her to church, though."

"Well, where would you go, realistically? I mean, your church pretty much kicked you out, right?"

"Don't remind me," Dave groaned.

"Are you all right?" Craig asked, laying a hand on Dave's back. "I mean, really? I know your religion means a lot to you."

"I guess so. I just… I don't remember a time when I didn't go to church, you know? It was always the nine of us, taking up a whole long pew in the nave, for as long as I can remember. I went to Sunday school, did confirmation classes, even sang in the choir at one point. It's so strange to think that I'm not welcome. I mean, I always thought God welcomed everyone, but I guess this is my first experience with being one of the people that He doesn't."

"Aw, bullshit. _God_ still loves you, David. Doesn't matter what the Church thinks."

"Easy for you to say. You're not even religious."

"How do you know?" Craig asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You never go to church!"

"Doesn't mean I'm not religious."

"Kate thought you were Buddhist. Is that true?"

"Because of the Buddha statue?" Dave nodded. "Not really. I empathise with Asian teachings, including those of the Buddha. But I don't meditate or follow the Eightfold Path."

"Oh. What do you follow?"

"I'm not sure. I believe there's someone out there looking out for me, though."

"Yet you don't need to go to church, have your sins forgiven?"

"No. I believe my sins will be forgiven whether I go to church or not. I live a good, honest life. I don't have it in my heart to believe in a God who would begrudge me heaven because I don't worship with a bunch of close-minded people once a week."

"We're not all close-minded."

Craig smiled. "I know that, Dave. Of course I know that… it's just not for me."

"Oh. Do you pray, then?"

"Sometimes."

"Would you… would you pray with me? It would mean a lot."

Craig smiled and squeezed Dave's shoulder. "Of course. Now?"

"Um, I guess it's a good a time as any." Dave smiled a bit nervously and Craig offered a warm smile in return, twisting on the couch to face Dave and taking both his hands, bowing his head.

"Why don't you start?" Craig whispered, and Dave nodded his head.

"Okay. Um, let's see. Hi there, God. That's how Eliza Jane always starts her prayers out loud, so I guess that's as good a start as any." Craig grinned and squeezed Dave's hands but didn't speak. "Um, I just wanted to thank you for this weekend with Eliza, and for bringing me here to this house, and giving me somewhere safe to be in these times. Please watch over Craig, and Eliza, and her mother this week. Um, please forgive me for missing church, and not confessing, and getting a divorce. Only you know the path that's right for me, but a little nudge would be nice. Um, Craig?"

Craig smiled at Dave's nervousness, evident in his shaking hands. "Okay, God. Also, please watch over Daisy, because I think he's a little confused at the moment about what you've got in store for him. Help him find somewhere that he can worship without being ridiculed by all these assholes, and make sure he stays safe. He's kind of important to me. Amen."

Dave looked up, incredulous, and then suddenly dropped Craig's hand and smacked him on the shoulder. "Craig! You don't say 'assholes' in a prayer!"

Craig grinned and reached for Dave's sides, initiating a tickle war. "Who says I don't, huh?"

"Eek! Stop! Mercy!!"   



	9. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cats and kisses.

"Did I ever tell you that I had a cat?"

It was nearly midnight, and Dave and Craig were sprawled out on the living room floor, a small army of half-empty Chinese takeout cartons between them. It was a Saturday night, but not Dave's week with Eliza Jane, so a number of empty beer bottles completed the picture.

"No. When was this?" Craig asked, propping his head up on his hand as he rolled to his side to face Dave.

"I was fourteen. We always had pets, you know, a dog for the first ten years of my life, birds, gerbils… but they were usually family pets, or sometimes one of the older girls would get one. I always wanted a cat, though."

Craig watched Dave's hands as he talked, moving expressively as he lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he spoke. Dave was always cute when he was tipsy, much more expressive, often giggling. Craig smiled as he watched his best friend ramble, comforted by the fact that Dave couldn't see Craig watching him.

"I got Ginger for my fourteenth birthday. She was a beautiful cat, all lean and graceful and charcoal grey. Carmel said it was stupid to name a grey cat Ginger, but that's what I wanted. I didn't have my own room, but Ginger slept in my bed with me, and she was always so warm at night."

"How did she die?"

"When I left for university my mum promised to watch her for me. A few weeks later I found out that Peter had 'accidentally' run her over in his car. He never much liked Ginger."

"Jesus."

"Yeah. Never had a pet since."

 

"What on _earth_ are you eating?"

"Cold pizza. Breakfast of champions." Craig grinned around a slice.

"Well that's just _mildly_ revolting."

"Hey, I wasn't to know that Kate was going to decide at the last minute that we are, after all, unfit to host a birthday party for Eliza. Incidentally, I am really tempted to sue the bitch."

"Craig…"

"I know, I know," he interrupted, holding up his hands. "I won't. But it's tempting."

"Yes, well, life sucks sometimes. Get used to it."

Craig just rolled his eyes. "You are so morbid. Now are you going to help me with the fact that we have no less than five pizzas in our fridge, or what?"

"I'm not eating pizza for breakfast. Forget it."

"C'mon, Dais. Live a little!"

"My Cocoa Puffs will be just fine, thanks. Hey did you get the bike all wrapped up in the garage?"

"Pink bow and everything. Do you really think we're qualified to teach a four year old to ride a bike, though?"

"That's why we bought the adorable pink helmet and the adorable pink training wheels," Dave replied sarcastically. "Besides, now that it's warming up again she's going to want to play in the street again. Least we can do is distract her."

"Or, you know, give her transportation to bigger and better streets," Craig muttered.

Dave grinned. "Hey. That sounded suspiciously like me."

"What?"

"That! You're talking like me."

"Am not."

"Are so," Dave countered with a little smug smile. "I think my responsibility is having an influence on you, Parker."

Craig just snorted and grabbed another slice of pizza. "When pigs fly."

 

"Yes! They're finally fucking here!!"

Dave raised an eyebrow, watching late one evening as Craig tore into a cardboard box and ripped out a boxed set of DVDs, tearing the shrink wrap with his fingernails as he ran to the DVD player like a kid on Christmas morning.

"What the hell are those?"

"Oh, the Queer as Folk DVDs. The first three seasons. It's an American show. Early birthday present from a friend back home," Craig explained, popping in the first disc and settling in on the couch.

"Um, okay. Mind if I watch?"

Craig frowned. "Um, Daisy, no offence, but this stuff is rather explicit. You know, it's sex—gay sex."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Craig, I'm not in sixth form. I know gay men have sex."

"Yeah, but…" Craig trailed off and shrugged. "Well, suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh come on. If a show's got you this excited, I want to see what's so great about it."

"Well, it's supposed to be one of the best portrayals of gay people on television. Which means, you know, a lot of sex."

"Funny, I don't see you getting much."

"Oh, shut it. I have priorities!"

Dave giggled. "Like?"

"You, dimwit. Can we watch now?"

Dave stared at Craig momentarily before nodding. "Oh, um, right, yeah. Put it on."

And so, Dave and Craig sat on the couch, beer bottles in hand, almost thigh-to-thigh, watching the first episode of the American Queer as Folk.

"Holy shit," Dave breathed, awed, when Brian began licking down Justin's back and, presumably, to the crack of his arse as well. "Do you really do that?"

Craig turned, smirked, and noticed Dave couldn't keep his eyes off the screen. "Yeah. Only with someone I'm serious with—I mean, it's not the safest ever form of sex. But yeah. I've done it."

"Does it… I mean is it a good thing?"

"Oh, yeah," Craig agreed, but by now Brian was actually fucking Justin for the first time, and Dave wasn't paying a shard of attention to Craig.

"Wow." The single word was breathy, and Craig noticed Dave had scooted towards the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, in fascination. Taking a surreptitious glance downwards, Craig noticed another part of Dave's body was just as curious. And that was something he wasn't quite expecting. "It doesn't… he doesn't look like it hurts much… does it?"

Craig shrugged. "The first time, more than they're letting on in this. But it doesn't have to, much. It's just a stretching sensation. It burns a bit, and then it gets really fucking good."

"Even for the… you know, the guy on the bottom?"

"Especially for him. Dave, um…" Craig paused, not sure how far Dave wanted to take this little man-to-man. "You know how I told you about your prostate?"

"Um… yeah?"

"Well once that's being stimulated, to be honest, you don't really notice any pain. You're too fucking strung out to care, really."

"Oh." Dave paused for a moment, thoughtful. "I don't think I've ever been quite that into sex. Is that weird?"

Craig looked at Dave, who appeared genuinely worried, and smiled. "Nah. We've all gotta find what floats our boat, yeah? Maybe you just haven't found it yet." Craig chose not to mention the half-erection that Dave didn't even seem to have noticed himself yet. He'd figure it out.

 

It was three am when Craig finally insisted they at least get some sleep before finishing the DVDs. Dave had been insistent that they continue, and was quickly becoming hooked on the show. He bombarded Craig with questions—"Are gay guys always non-monogamous? Do you really think about sex that often? Are you quite that fashion-conscious? I mean, look at you!"—but he wouldn't take his eyes away from the screen. And so, Craig almost wasn't surprised by Dave's question when he stumbled towards Craig, half asleep, in the kitchen where he was rinsing out their beer bottles.

"What's it really like to kiss a guy?" Dave bit his lip, scratching the back of his head as he pushed his hip to the side to lean against the dishwasher. "I mean, is it always as hot as it is when Brian and Justin do it?"

Craig gulped. "Um, well, no. It's like with a girl, I guess. I can be good, or just sweet, or…"

"Really fucking hot?"

Craig's eyes went wide. Dave's own were dark, his fingers tucked in his belt loops, his lip glistening from where he had licked it moments before. "Yeah, um, it can be that too…"

Craig gasped when Dave reached out, intercepting his attempt to leave the kitchen, pushing him instead against the table with Dave close behind. "Kiss me, Craig."

"Wha…I… are you sure you want this, Daisy?"

"Craig, I'm forty one years old, and I've never had such a strong urge to kiss someone in my life. I'll go back to being scared and cute and innocent tomorrow. I'll even be Justin to your Brian. But now, you've gotta fucking kiss me."

Craig grinned, a little less rational in a direct result of what was pushing up against his thigh. It was just going to be one kiss, he knew that, but it could be a pretty damned good one and Dave was looking beautifully tousled enough to ravish.

"Well if I'm Brian to your Justin, does that mean I get to lick your arse?"

"Oh shut up and kiss me, you perv," Dave demanded, his hands pinning Craig in on either side of the table.

"If you've got such an urge, Daisy, do it yourself," Craig countered, his eyes laughing.

Dave's breath hitched, and Craig almost thought he wasn't going to do it, but then Dave was practically _diving_ forward, his hand tangling messily in Craig's hair as the other firmly clutched at his lower back, Dave's lips absolutely devouring his own, teeth nipping and a sneaky little tongue licking just about everywhere it could reach. Craig moaned, bent half-backward over the table, and suddenly Dave's erection was having another to contend with.

"_Fuck_," Craig gasped when Dave finally pulled back for air. "We've gotta… we can't…"

"Just one kiss, sweetheart," Dave promised in a voice that was low and husky and the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Dave's index finger pressed gently to Craig's lower lip, and Craig just gawked, perhaps for the first time in front of Dave utterly speechless. "Tomorrow I go back to being freaked out, but tonight… you've made me feel sexy, Craig, and that's not a feeling I've had much experience with. Sweet dreams."

Craig continued to stare, unmoving, as Dave pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and then grinned, skipping off to his own bedroom. Craig fell awkwardly to his elbows, slouching against the table, unable to move for several minutes as he pieced together what had happened. And then, suddenly, something clicked, and he was in his room in no time flat, trying to take care of his little problem as quietly as possible. Something in this house had definitely changed, and he was pretty sure it wasn't him.

 

The next two weeks were a little awkward. They didn't talk about the kiss, and Dave had gone back to being his usual shy, blushing self. Craig, on the other hand, felt like the biggest fuckwit to hit the planet, and would apologise profusely if they _were_ talking about it.

Yeah, okay, Dave was in denial. But Craig knew it would be cruel to rub that in. Dave was probably pretty fucking worried about it, and if Craig knew him at all, praying every night for guidance. Craig prayed, too, and it had been a long time since he'd prayed solo to any God. But it felt right, and so one morning he got down on his knees and he said a prayer.

It was that afternoon that he met Ruby.

Ruby slinked up to Craig in an alleyway he was using as a cut-through on the way to his car from the bakery, and circled him with the utmost grace, slipping around and between his legs like a four-legged prima ballerina.

He smiled at the little cat, much smaller than most cats he'd seen and also much cleaner, considering the fact that she was in an alleyway. And then he bent down, and found the folded note slipped under and taped to her collar.

_Dear Friend,_

_ My name is David. I am eleven years old, and I am dying. I know I'm young to be dying, but I am. I can feel it in my chest and my lungs when I breathe. I have cancer, and Mum says that if something happens to me, Ruby will be put to sleep. She didn't tell me myself, but I heard her talking to Dad about it. Ruby's a very good cat, and she's only two years old. I don't want her to be put to sleep, and so I'm hoping you're a good man or lady, and that you'll take good care of her. Mum says Ruby is a stupid name for a grey cat, but that's her name and that's what she answers to. She likes the wet cat food the best, and she's very friendly. She might want to sleep with you. Please let her. She gets lonely sometimes. I'm hoping that by letting Ruby go she will have a good life when I am gone._

_ Sincerely, Ruby's best friend, David_

Craig looked around the alley suspiciously, almost thinking this was some sort of a strange practical joke. But no, there was no one else around, and Ruby was still circling him with an almost regal air, looking at him expectantly. He sent a quick thank you heavenwards, and scooped Ruby up in his arms, glad when her claws didn't immediately sink into his skin.

"That's a good Ruby. C'mon, sweetheart, I'm going to take you to meet your new friend," Craig whispered, tucking the folded note in his back pocket and drying his eyes quickly on his shoulder.

 

"Dave?"

"In my room!"

Craig grinned and rounded the corner to find Dave sitting in his bed with a stack of mail in his lap, sorting through it. His jaw dropped open when he saw the cat, however, and he sat frozen for a moment before he leaped up, taking the poor thing out of Craig's arms.

"Oh my God. Is she yours? Can we keep her?"

Craig laughed at Dave's momentary regression. "She's yours, actually. I found her and she was just begging me to take her home to you, you see." Dave raised an eyebrow sceptically and Craig pulled the note out of his pocket as Dave sat down on the edge of the bed, stroking the cat who seemed perfectly happy to be in his lap.

"Oh my God…" he whispered when he had finished reading. "That's so sad…"

Craig nodded. "I know, but I think you might just be the answer to this kid's prayers. He even has your name."

"Yeah, I noticed. And Ruby…" Dave smiled, looking up at Craig. "She looks just like Ginger. You're amazing, Parker."

Craig smiled sheepishly, and then gasped when Dave jumped up, dropping Ruby to the floor in the process and threw his arms around his friend.

"This is so, so perfect… thank you so much, Craig," Dave murmured as he held the other man tight, the cat looking up indignantly from the spot she'd been dropped to.

"Anything for you, Daisy. I just want you to be happy."

"Do you?" Dave pulled back but didn't let go, his eyes wistful and just a few inches from Craig's face. "I owe you an apology, you know."

"You do? For what, pray tell?"

"For kissing you when I didn't know what I wanted."

Craig frowned. "It's okay, Daisy. You're straight, that's not a problem for me and it never has been. I don't want you to think that Ruby was some sort of bribe or something…"

"No," Dave interrupted. "That's not what I mean. I don't think I am… straight, I mean. But I was confused."

"Oh." Craig looked pretty confused himself. "Are you still confused?"

"A little, yeah. But I want you, Craig. I'm sorry. I know this makes things awkward."

Craig frowned, momentarily ignoring the little flutter in his chest at Dave's words. "How does it make things awkward?"

"Well you can't very well have some guy who's got a crush on you living in your house, I mean, that's not very fair… it's fine, I'll move as soon as I can find a place…"

Dave tried to pull out of Craig's arms, but Craig stopped him, his hands tight on Dave's biceps. "No, wait. Stop, Dave. I don't understand. Why would you leave? I want you here."

"You do?" Dave bit his lip. "Even knowing this?"

"Of course knowing this. Goddamn, Daisy, you're such a beautiful person. Didn't you notice how I reacted when you kissed me?"

"You liked it…" Dave said slowly, smiling slightly. "But I don't think you understand."

"Tell me. What don't I understand?"

"I'm not… I'm don't want to have sex with you, Craig." Craig frowned but didn't reply. "I mean… I do, maybe, someday, but I can't just do that and be done with it, and go back to being friends. I'm not like those guys on _Queer as Folk_. I've always preferred a relationship, and I'd move much too slowly for your tastes…"

"Dave. You're not making any sense. Come on… you think _I_ don't prefer a relationship? Why do you think I haven't slept with any men since I broke up with my boyfriend? Why do you think we broke up in the first place? I told you, I was too romantic for him. I don't do casual."

"Oh. But I… I mean I don't know…"

"You're confused. I get that. You're also the most amazing man I know, incidentally, and you're a great father and a wonderful friend. So why wouldn't I want to give you all the time you need? Trust me, Daisy. You're worth it."

"Oh." Dave's face contorted into a wide smile. and he leaned forward slightly so that his forehead was touching Craig's. "You are too wonderful for words, Craig."

Craig grinned and whispered. "Then don't talk."

Dave gasped when Craig leaned in to kiss him. He tried to pull away after a short kiss, but Dave wasn't having it. Tasting Craig's lips again, he didn't want to stop, and held him tightly by the waist to keep him in one place as he pulled Craig's lower lip lightly with his teeth.

"Jesus," Craig whispered with a shudder when Dave released his lip. Dave grinned and pulled it again.

"Lovely," Dave replied in an equally rough whisper, ducking his head slightly to press a soft kiss underneath Craig's ear. "One of these days, I'm going to find all the spots that make you shiver."

"You're… fuck… doing a pretty good job of it right now." Craig moaned as Dave's teeth captured his earlobe.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Dave grinned and kissed Craig hard on the lips again. "Fuck, you make me so hot, Craig. I've never felt so fucking hot for it," he murmured.

"Fucking hell," Craig gasped. "I didn't know you had such a dirty mouth on you."

"I didn't," Dave replied with a grin, his hand snaking up under the back of Craig's shirt and caressing his lower back with a slightly sweaty palm. "I don't feel a need to hold back with you."

"Jesus _Christ_," Craig exclaimed when Dave lowered his head again and placed and open-mouthed kiss to the base of his throat. "Then don't."

Dave smiled. "Mmm, I don't plan to. Maybe not today, but…"

"I understand," Craig interrupted, suddenly serious. "Maybe this is too much."

"No," Dave disagreed. "This is just about right, I think." And then Dave's hand cupped Craig's arse as his tongue plunged between Craig's lips.

 


	10. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Queer as Folk, Craig's birthday, and Eliza gets snarky.

"Kitty! Daddy, you got a kitty!!"

Kate stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, expression extremely displeased as Eliza Jane darted past Dave's knees after a quickly fleeing Ruby.

"You bought her a cat?"

"Well technically, Craig found me a cat."

"_What?_"

"Craig," Dave repeated slowly, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. "The guy I live with? Found Ruby, in an alley."

"In an _alley?_ David, you could be exposing our daughter to rabies!"

"She's fine, Kate. We got her checked out, and she was just left there by a little boy who couldn't keep her. She's just like Ginger, and Craig knew I'd want her…"

"Like _who?_"

"Ginger. My old cat. I guess I never told you…"

"No, you didn't. David, I'm your _wife_ and…"

"_Ex_ wife," Dave corrected, particularly glad to be able to say that now that the divorce had gone completely through. "And can you stop calling me that, please?"

"Ex wife," she repeated with a particularly deadly glare. "And this… this… _roommate_ of yours knows more about your life than I do?"

"You never asked," Dave said with a shrug. "Look, if you're done…"

"Don't do this," she interjected. "There's something going on here that I don't like… and _when_ I find out exactly what it is, you'll regret it," she warned with a cold stare.

"Are you _threatening_ him?" Craig asked, appearing over Dave's shoulder in the doorway with a positively lethal look. "Look, lady, you're not the only one with money and lawyers, kapeesh? And if you _dare_ do what you're insinuating, I will sue your arse so fast…"

"Oh go to hell, Parker."

"You're on my property, Kate," he replied with a level stare.

"Yes, and _you're_ in possession of _my_ child, you filthy Sodomite!"

Craig raised an eyebrow as if impressed, his hand reaching out to gently catch Dave by the hip before he tried to step forward and object. "_Your_ child, Kate, has been ordered by the court to see her father every other weekend. After everything else you've taken from Dave—his Church, his home, his dignity—I'll be dead before I let you take the one thing that matters most to him. Now get _off_ my God-damned property," he insisted in a low, warning tone.

Kate huffed, and sputtered, but finally turned on her heel and stomped down the walk without a word. Craig smiled and shut the door behind her, turning to Dave and reaching up to gently cup his cheeks with both hands.

"You're fine, love. We're fine. I'm not going to let that bitch hurt you anymore."

"Craig, you can't…"

"Can't what? Can't spend my money on you? Can't defend you? You're wrong."

Dave looked as if he wanted to object, but finally gave up, moving closer and falling into Craig's embrace, his head resting on the shorter man's shoulder.

"There, there, Daisy. You're okay, love. You're okay. Now come on. We've got a child and a cat to entertain."

Dave grinned at that and nodded, wiping his tears on his sleeve and letting Craig lead him into the living room.

 

"Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" Dave sat on his own bed, holding Eliza's hand through the bars of her trundle as he always did when he sat with her before bed.

"Do you love Uncle Cwaig?"

Dave blushed, but nodded. "Of course I do, sweetheart. It's like you say, he's my bestest friend," he pointed out, reaching out to tickle her stomach.

"Eep!" She giggled, trying to roll away, but didn't drop the subject as he'd hoped. "No Daddy, I mean, do you love Uncle Cwaig like you loved Mummy?"

Dave went even redder. "Um, I'm not sure, sweetheart."

"Do you kiss him goodnight? People who love each other kiss each other good night," she explained in the matter of fact tone that only the very blissfully innocent can carry off.

"Sometimes," Dave agreed. "But these are big questions for a little girl, 'Liza. Why do you ask?"

Eliza shrugged. "I like Uncle Cwaig. I want him to stay around. And I want you to be happy, Daddy. Since Mummy doesn't make you happy anymore."

Dave sighed, his heart breaking for the confused little girl. "He does make me happy, sweetheart. But no more questions for tonight, okay? It's bedtime."

"Oh, all right," she agreed with a little huff that Dave had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at. "Sing me a song?"

"Just one."

"Just one," she agreed, and he smiled as he turned on the nightlight and turned off the big light.

"Rock a bye baby, in the tree tops. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. And down will come cradle, 'Liza and all."

She giggled as always at her name and leaned up for a kiss as Dave stood. "Night night, Daddy."

"Night night, 'Liza."

 

"You wanna maybe sleep in my room tonight? Give Eliza some privacy?"

Dave raised an eyebrow incredulously, turning towards Craig on the couch. "She's four!"

Craig shrugged. "My bed's bigger."

"My bed only has one _person_ in it."

"I guess."

For a moment, they watched the telly in silence, warmth passing between them where their thighs touched, sipping their beer.

"Why now?" Dave asked, turning to look at Craig again.

Craig shrugged. "I wanted to ask you before, but I figured I needed a good reason. This is the best I've got."

Dave laughed at that. "You're sweet, but you could've asked. I could always say no."

"Would you?" Craig looked slightly worried.

"No," Dave replied in a soft tone. "Assuming all we're doing is sleeping."

Craig pouted. "Well I wouldn't object to a little cuddle…"

Dave snorted and pulled Craig's upper half bodily into his lap, grabbing the beer away at the last minute to avoid upsetting it. "Get comfortable. I won't break."

Craig grinned and settled with his head in Dave's lap, feet up on the armrest. "I just want you to be comfortable with everything, you know?"

Dave smiled fondly and nodded, stroking Craig's hair. "I do know. And I am. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

"You watch who you're calling little," Craig warned with an indignant look, but Dave knew all was right between them.

 

"Whatcha making?" Craig came home from rehearsal to find Dave in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and flour coating his forearms as he rolled small balls of dough.

"Oatmeal cookies."

Craig smiled. "Are they your favourite?"

"Yeah." Dave gave Craig a slightly childish smile and turned back to his work.

"Can I help?"

"Not really much to help. You can have a seat and keep me company though. How was rehearsal?"

"Not bad," Craig replied as he straddled a kitchen chair. "You'll be there for opening night, right?"

"With bells on."

Craig grinned. "And how was work… dear?"

Dave snickered as he bent down to slide the cookies in the oven and then squeaked when Craig gave him a sharp smack on the arse. "Fine… I'm working on tweaking that layout, almost have it done."

"That's good…so how about we sit on the couch tonight, eat cookies and drink milk, watch Queer as Folk, and make out like teenagers?"

Dave laughed as he walked between Craig and the table, and Craig turned around in his chair to face front. "We never did finish that, did we?" He grinned as he lowered himself into Craig's lap, his hands going immediately to Dave's waist.

"No indeed. You need to see more hot mansex. You know, for your education."

Dave rolled his eyes. "You know, I do, contrary to popular belief, get the concept of _sex_."

"Not _good_ sex." Dave raised an eyebrow. "Did Kate ever give you a blowjob?"

Dave blushed, burying his head in Craig's neck. "Well not… often."

"Hmm… I think we need to work on that, then. I mean, when you're ready, of course."

"Jesus. I think you're doing a frighteningly good job of _making_ me ready," Dave mumbled into Craig's neck, rolling his hips for emphasis.

Craig smiled and shook his head. "I'd hate myself if I forced anything on you too soon. Now come on, beautiful. Give me some sugar."

Dave raised his head and rolled his eyes when he found Craig sitting there with eyes closed and lips comically puckered, waiting. "Nerd," he whispered before placing a kiss to them, and then snaking his tongue between Craig's lips when he relaxed them.

They kissed, leisurely, for several minutes, Dave's feet propped on the lower rungs of the chair while Craig's hands held him steady by the waist, one drifting up from time to time to card through his hair. It was only their sense of smell that alerted them to the finished cookies, and so they reluctantly parted, bringing the piping-hot tray into the living room to cool on trivets while they popped in the DVD.

When Ethan was introduced, Dave made appreciative noises around his mouthful of cookie, and Craig rolled his eyes. He was a big Brian fan, but Dave pointed out Ethan's fingers on the violin strings and what else those fingers might be able to do and Craig just stared for several minutes, sneaking peeks even when Dave had quit paying attention to him and had turned back to the screen.

Dave's skin was always surprisingly soft to Craig's questing fingers, though Craig was pretty sure he didn't moisturise. As Dave watched the show intently, Craig traced every inch of that soft skin that was visible, as well as the plump swell of his slightly kiss-swollen lips and the harder planes of his chest and shoulders beneath his shirt. Turning his eyes back to the screen, Craig couldn't resist spider-walking his fingers up Dave's denim-clad thigh, smiling to himself at the little hitch in Dave's breath despite the fact that neither man looked away from the television. As his fingers kneaded gently at Dave's upper thigh, just a few centimetres away from 'highly inappropriate,' the near hand slipped behind Dave's back, inching up under his shirt and stroking the warm skin. Dave sighed and cuddled closer, and Craig grinned, keeping both hands moving steadily until Dave slowly turned his head and raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"You're not going to let me get through more than one episode tonight, are you?"

Craig grinned playfully and shook his head, leaning in to drop a quick peck on Dave's lips. "Nope."

"Well as long as we're both on the same page…"

And both were grinning as they moved forward to press their lips together.

 

When Craig's birthday rolled around, the day passed relatively normally—Dave did his work as usual, with no mention of the special day, and then Craig went to rehearsal after supper. He was a teeny bit disappointed, as he had made Dave supper and done his best to make his birthday extra special back in September, but it would be in bad taste to complain and so he kept his chin up. Nothing prepared him, however, for the kiss he got when he stepped in the doorway.

"Holy fuck," he gasped against Dave's lips, his whole body pressed up against Dave's on one side and the doorframe on the other, lips to toes. "And a jolly good evening to you, too."

Dave laughed and nipped playfully at Craig's ear. "Happy birthday, Craig. Here, come open your presents."

"Presents? You got me presents?"

"Of course I got you presents," Dave agreed with a roll of his eyes. "Did you think I'd forgotten?"

'Well…"

"Craig, you are such an idiot. How could I ever forget you? Now come here, you thirty-six year old stud. I made cake."

"Cake!"

Craig was grinning like a three year old when he found the double chocolate avalanche cake, a single red rose and two glasses of champagne next to it along with a couple of wrapped presents.

"Daisy, you are too much…"

Dave just smiled shyly and nodded to the boxes. "Well go on, open them. I'll cut you a piece of cake," he offered.

"All right," Craig agree, grabbing for the first thing he saw, a silver gift bag. Inside he found a dark blue knit hat, complete with a little poufy ball on top and little strings hanging down from the sides.

"I know winter's over, but it'll keep your ears warm," Dave explained, and Craig burst out laughing.

"Honey, this is so gay. I love it."

"It's not gay!"

"It has a poufy ball on the top!"

Dave rolled his eyes and passed Craig his plate. "Open the next one."

"Fine, fine," Craig agreed, taking a bite of cake first. "Mmm. Fantastic."

"I thought you might like it."

"I do. It's absolutely glorious, in that chocolatey sort of a way. All right, next present," he announced, picking up a box and tearing off the paper. Inside was a ceramic coffee mug with one of the photos of Craig and Eliza on the carousel in the park back when Kate and Dave had first gotten separated on it that said "World's Best Uncle."

"That was kind of a joint effort," Dave explained, and Craig grinned.

"I'll be sure to thank her as well. Okay, last one…"

"Well it's kind of two things," Dave explained as Craig unwrapped the framed photo of the two of them, taken with a self-timer and a lot of careful planning. "Look in the back of the frame."

"All right…" Craig turned the frame over, and pulled out the slender envelope, opening it and then grinning when he saw the tickets inside.

"You got us tickets to RENT! You _are_ gay!" Craig squealed, tackling Dave into a hug. Dave just rolled his eyes and decided not to comment. It was Craig's birthday, after all.

 

"Daisy! Where you at, babe?"

"In your room! And when did you turn into a gangster?" Dave called, making Craig grin as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a chair, pausing in the bedroom doorway with one hand holding the frame over his head.

"Got some news for you, beautiful."

"What's that?" Dave asked, smiling as he looked up from his computer. Craig almost laughed at the scene—Dave lying on his stomach on the bed, computer in front of him at the foot of it, apparently unperturbed by the fact that Ruby was dozing happily on his lower back.

"Got you a little gig. The theatre wants a redesign of their website before the opening of this show."

"Really? Baby, that's great!" Dave exclaimed, jumping up to his knees and making Ruby yowl in annoyance at the move, giving Dave a particularly pissed-off look before scampering off to find food.

"I thought you might like that," Craig replied, stepping forward as Ruby ran by and bending down to press a kiss to his lips. "Also, I have a teeny favour to ask."

"Sure, what's that?"

"Well, our headshots will need to be on the site, and mine is ages old. I mean, so many ages it's embarrassing. Do you think you could photograph me?"

"Of course," Dave agreed with a grin. "I love photographing you. Here, sit," he urged, patting the bed next to him. "What did you have in mind?"

Craig shrugged as he toed off his shoes and went to lie on his stomach next to Dave, idly scratching Dave's back underneath his shirt until the man was purring in spite of himself. "Doesn't matter, really. I mean, head and shoulders, maybe outdoors. You can pick what I wear."

"Pink boa?"

Craig rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, jumping back in surprise when Dave tried to snap his teeth at it.

"Hey! You might need that some day."

"_Some_ day?" Dave raised an eyebrow and scooted closer, throwing his leg over and between Craig's. "Was hoping today…"

"Oh babe, don't tempt me," Craig murmured as he leaned in and sucked lightly at Dave's lower lip. Too bloody gorgeous, that man was. Too bloody tempting.

 

"Daddy told me you're going to be in a play soon," Eliza Jane announced as the three of them sat in a sandbox at the park, building a castle that was really impressive for a playground creation and if truth be told was more the result of Craig's ambition than anything.

"That's right, sweetie. I'm an actor," Craig replied, carefully smoothing the side of a turret with the pad of his finger.

"That's so cool," Eliza replied admiringly. "I might be an actress when I grow up. That's like a girl actor," she explained in a slightly self-important tone. "Or I might be a ballerina. Do you ever do ballet?" she asked, ignorant of her father's stifled snicker behind her.

Craig shot Dave a dirty look before turning back to Eliza with a smile and shaking his head. "Not really. I've taken some modern dance classes, but I like acting and writing best."

"Oh, I see. We do some writing at my school."

"You do?"

"Yeah! My teacher says I'm good at it. We practice our letters, and sometimes we do poetry, too."

"You write poems?" Craig asked.

"Well, yeah, but Miss Alison writes them down for us."

"Well, that's all right," Craig reasoned. "You'll learn to write yourself soon, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I think that's when we're bigger. Like five, or maybe six," Eliza confirmed with a nod. "Want me to tell you a poem, Uncle Cwaig? I can make it about you."

"Sure, 'Liza. I'd be honoured," Craig agreed, and Dave rolled his eyes behind Eliza's head, being completely ignored.

"Okay, let's see… Uncle Cwaig is a very cool guy. He's even better than a strawberry pie. He loves my Daddy, and he loves me too… because… um…. roses are red, and violets are blue!" she finished with a grin. Then, looking worried, she crawled forward and leaned up to whisper in Craig's ear, holding one sandy hand next to her mouth. "I kinda copied that last part."

Craig smiled and hugged her with one arm. "That's all right, Eliza. It's called artistic license. That was a beautiful poem, though."

Dave snorted. "And Uncle Craig has no ego, _what_soever."

"What's an ego, Daddy?" Eliza asked as Craig took advantage of her turned back to stick his tongue out at Dave.

"Well, it's when someone likes themselves a little too much."

"Oh," she replied, nodding. "Like Maggie."

"Who's Maggie, sweetie?"

"She's in my class. She likes herself very much. She's Queen of the Playground."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "What's Queen of the Playground?"

"Oh, it's kind of like the Queen of England," Eliza explained. "Except just for the playground. She elected herself."

Dave snorted. "Well, that doesn't sound very nice."

"No," Eliza agreed. "Me and Jane don't think it is. We're going to overthrow her. Jane's brother told her that when you don't like a queen, you can overthrow them. It's called a revolution!" she explained proudly.

"Ah," Dave replied, clearly trying not to laugh. "Well, you know something else that might help your case?"

"What's that, Daddy?"

"Queens aren't elected at all. You have to be in a certain family to be Queen."

"You do?" Eliza frowned, biting her lip. "Does that mean I can't be Queen of Australia?" she asked, looking a bit distraught.

"Well… yes," Dave replied carefully. "But Australia doesn't have its own Queen. That's why we share England's."

"Oh, right," Eliza replied, nodding. "Is Elizabeth your Queen, too, Uncle Cwaig?"

"As a matter of fact, she is."

"Daddy told me you're from another country. But you still have the same Queen?"

"Yep. New Zealand shares England's Queen, too."

"Oh. Does that mean you can't be the Queen of New Zealand, either?" Dave barked out a laugh, and Craig just glared at him.

"That's right, honey. I can't be _King_ of New Zealand. But that's okay. I don't really want to be in the government. I like acting."

Eliza frowned. "Is that why you talk funny then, because you're from another country?"

"I _talk_ funny?" Craig exclaimed indignantly. "Maybe you talk funny!"

"I do not, silly!" Eliza shrieked. "Say…. say rabbit!"

Craig rolled his eyes. "Rabbit."

"See!" she squealed, delighted. "That's not a rabbit, that's what a frog says!"

"All right, you little Australian monster, I'll show you what a frog says," Craig growled, and Eliza squealed as she ran off, Craig chasing behind him, Dave just sitting in the sand rolling his eyes at the both of them and finishing reinforcements on the moat.


	11. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We get to the sex! Well, almost to the sex, at least. Also, herein lies proof that four-year-old logic is so much better than the grownup version.

By opening night for Craig's show the first week in December, the weather was absolutely balmy. Dave wanted to dress up properly, but he couldn't really handle a full suit with a jacket, so instead he wore a short-sleeved pink dress shirt and white linen trousers, which made Craig pronounce him "camper than a fucking tent." According to Eliza Jane, who went along with him much to her mother's chagrin (it was, after all, a Saturday), Dave looked "very pretty, Daddy. Very pretty."

The show had a fairly simple plot, but Craig's character was hilarious in it, and he played it up so much that the audience was in stitches, even Eliza giggling though Dave was pretty sure she didn't get most of the jokes. After the show, he managed to talk his way backstage, and Craig was waiting there for him in the dressing room with a big smack on the lips.

"Why hello there, darling!" he greeted with a grin. "'Liza. So glad you could both make it!"

"Me too, Uncle Cwaig. You were a star!" she effused, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek when he crouched down and presented it to her. "Here, Daddy and I bought you flowers. Well, Daddy bought them, but I picked out the colour," she confessed, handing him the bouquet of brilliant purple blossoms.

"Why thank you, sweetheart! They're lovely!"

"You were amazing, by the way," Dave commented when Craig was upright again. "But I didn't really need to tell you that."

"Nah, but it doesn't hurt the old ego," Craig teased.

"But Uncle Cwaig, I thought you didn't have an ego," Eliza broke in, confused. Dave snorted and Craig just smacked his shoulder.

"Of course I don't, sweetheart. So are you guys sticking around or do you need to take Eliza home?" Craig asked

"I promised Kate I'd have her home straight away since it's not my weekend," Dave explained. "See you back at the house, though?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't be too long here," Craig agreed, giving Dave a smile and a quick kiss. "Thank you again for the flowers," he added, ruffling Eliza's hair.

"You're very welcome," Eliza replied with a grin, and then scampered off towards the door with her father close behind.

 

"Babe?" Craig called out, locking the door behind him as he entered the dark house.

"In the bedroom," Dave called back, and Craig carefully followed the sound, making sure not to trip over anything as he made his way towards the soft light coming from the bedroom. When he arrived, however, he nearly tripped over his own feet in surprise, immediately dropping the armful of flowers and costume that he was carrying in the doorway.

"Fuck, Dave," he breathed out. Dave just grinned, slowly running a hand up his own—very naked—thigh as Craig hungrily followed the movement with his eyes.

"Thought you might like a little present for a job well done," Dave explained, his voice low and sultry and much more _confident_ than Craig had heard him, sober at least.

"Jesus, Daisy. Are you…"

Dave held up a hand, cutting off his speech. "I'm not ready for everything yet," he admitted, and the very slight bit of colour in his cheeks reassured Craig that this was the Dave he knew and loved. "But I want you, Craig. Please."

Craig exhaled in a rush and then nearly fell again in his hurry to get to the bed, tugging his t-shirt over his head and toeing off his shoes as he went. Dave smiled at Craig's eagerness, and then gasped when Craig's first action was to bend and press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his inner thigh. He let out a sound that was embarrassingly like a whinge and gasped, pushing up until Craig decided, grinning wickedly, to push his teeth against the sensitive skin as well.

"God!"

"Mmm… not quite," Craig teased with a cocky smile, crawling up Dave's body to lay on his side next to the man, bending his head this time to take a nipple between his teeth and tug until he earned another desperate gasp. "You're so fucking _sexy_, Daisy," he muttered as he moved up a little and began to suck on Dave's neck in earnest. "Just tell me," he whispered. "Tell me how far I can go, baby. I don't even have to touch your cock if you don't want, just _this_," he breathed, trailing his fingertips along Dave's hip for emphasis, "is enough."

"Oh _God_," Dave groaned again. "You are most certainly touching my cock tonight, Parker, or I shall be forced to tie you down and use that cute little mouth _exactly_ as I see fit."

Craig whimpered, couldn't help it, his hips jutting half into the bedspread and half against Dave's side as the image went straight to his brain and put his senses into complete overload.

"_Fuck_," he moaned, and Dave grinned and turned his head, threading his fingers in Craig's hair and pulling him close enough that their lips were touching.

"Anything other than that, actually," he promised, and Craig growled, not even caring, having a feeling that even if Dave _had_ offered his arse Craig wouldn't be able to last long enough to take it tonight.

"God damn it, Dave, let me suck you, baby, _please_ let me suck you," he begged, pressing his lips hard against Dave's before he could answer, licking wetly around the other man's mouth as he tried to undo his belt buckle one-handed.

Dave moaned greedily, letting the ferocity of his need as manifested in the kiss be his answer as he slapped Craig's hand away and undid the buckle himself, followed by Craig's fly, reaching inside the man's shorts for his cock instead of bothering to get Craig's trousers all the way down.

"_Yes_," Craig hissed when Dave's hand closed firmly around the shaft, stroking up slowly, and it was just this side of painful with the friction from a dry palm, but he didn't even care, groaning when Dave bit down hard on his lower lip.

"Don't know why…. don't know how I didn't know I wanted this, before," Dave muttered against Craig's chin, letting go of Craig's cock and ignoring the man's whimper as he raised his hand to his mouth instead. Licking generously at the intersection between thumb and forefinger, he met the man's eyes and Craig instantly understood, moaning happily when Dave's hand returned, this time with just the right amount of pressure and a wicked little twist.

"Fuck… Daisy… too good…. going to fucking come," Craig moaned, and he was a bit angry with himself, stamina of a bloody teenager and this Dave's first time with a man, but Dave just smiled and leaned in, licking the shell of Craig's ear.

"Then come for me," Dave whisper-growled, and all was lost.

Even as Craig was thrusting into Dave's hand, his release coating the other man's fingers, he licked and sucked at Dave's neck and bare shoulders, rolling over as soon as he had finished and slithering down Dave's body, pausing to pull again at a nipple, smiling at the resulting hiss. But when he looked up, he realised that the look on Dave's face was that of a suddenly very nervous man, his lower lip held between his teeth as if something very bad was likely about to happen.

"Dave? What's wrong, honey?" Craig asked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Dave's hipbone, the tip of his tongue swirling around it.

"I… I just… hope this, um, works," he explained, waving his clean hand to indicate what was about to happen.

Craig frowned, and then looked pointedly down at Dave's erection. "Um, why wouldn't it?" he asked.

"Well… I just don't know… I mean this has only worked well enough for me to come once… maybe I'm not gay after all, maybe I'm just asexual or something, and I don't want that to be true," he admitted, and then Craig grinned, realising what Dave was worried about.

"Dave, honey, just humour me for a moment, okay?" he requested, propping up on one elbow and lazily trailing two fingers along the length of Dave's cock, making the other man gasp.

"Okay…"

"Since you've been living with me, or since you've been _with_ me at least, how many times a week, on average, have you gotten hard?"

Dave blushed almost the colour of his hair at that, but then he whispered, "um, maybe ten-ish? Sometimes more."

Craig smiled and dragged his teeth lightly across Dave's hip, feeling the shudder against his lips. "And what about when you were with Kate? How many times a week?"

"A _week_?"

Craig grinned widely. "Honey, you are so gay," he mumbled, dipping his head down to wrap his lips around Dave's cock and effectively cutting off any further conversation.

Dave gasped as Craig began a slow, tight slide with his mouth, genuinely surprised as his hands went instinctively to grip Craig's hair. "Oh my God…" he whispered, his eyes locked on Craig's lips as they moved up and down the shaft, varying speed and pressure. When Craig pulled back, fisting Dave's cock and licking around the head like a lollipop, Dave let out a long moan.

"Jesus! I can't… can't hold it…"

Craig just looked up, smiling, caught Dave's eyes, took a deep breath and swallowed the length of Dave's cock down his throat.

"_Fuck!_"

When Craig finally finished swallowing, he pulled off very gently and gave Dave's softening cock one last lick before wrinkling his nose slightly, though with a good-natured smile, and gently reaching up to guide Dave's wrist away from his head.

"Gotta go wash the come out of my hair now…" he mumbled, still grinning, and Dave's mouth formed a perfect "o" as he clapped the other hand over it.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry… I wasn't even thinking…"

"No, you weren't," Craig agreed with a smile, pressing his lips to Dave's. "And it was perfect."

 

Two weeks into the play's three-week run, Dave was half-lying across the kitchen table, recovering from an impromptu blowjob surrounded by sheets of unbaked Christmas biscuits, fairly certain that his arse was covered in a fine dusting of flour, when Craig decided to sprawl into the chair by Dave's knees, spreading his legs shamelessly and reaching down to pull his cock out of his jeans, stroking slowly as he watched his lover's chest rise and fall.

"I can't believe you couldn't come from oral sex before," he commented. "I mean, yeah, I've had blow jobs that weren't great, but nothing that I couldn't come from given enough time."

Dave shrugged, sitting up on his elbows and licking his lips as he watched Craig casually pleasure himself. "Kate didn't like them at all. It was an occasional treat for good behaviour, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that it wasn't all that wonderful of a treat."

Craig snorted, letting his head tilt back slightly and his eyes fall closed as he continued the unhurried pace with his fist. "So what did she do, then?"

"I don't know… she kind of kissed it," Dave explained with a blush. "All very light. She was afraid to actually suck because I guess she thought I'd accidentally push her head all the way down or something."

"Oh, right, of course, because you're such an aggressive and uncaring asshole," Craig replied in a monotone, and Dave just giggled.

"You want me to, um… try it? For you?"

Craig's eyes snapped open at that, his hand slowing to a stop as he regarded Dave critically. "You want to?" he asked, wanting to make sure, as to this point Dave hadn't tried anything beyond a hand job and Craig didn't want to rush the man.

"Yeah, I want to," Dave admitted shyly, sliding off the table and down to his knees. "Just… tell me what you like," he requested, hands flat on Craig's thighs as he leaned in and took a deep breath, observing the organ in front of him as if it were some sort of extremely complicated puzzle.

"God, anything," Craig breathed, holding tight at the base as Dave frowned and then leaned in, licking in an experimental circle around the ridge that separated head from shaft. At Craig's pleased gasp, he tried again, this time pushing harder with the tip of his tongue. "Oh… that's good," Craig encouraged, gently threading the fingers of one hand in Dave's hair.

Gaining confidence, after a few more swipes and flicks with his tongue, Dave gently slid his lips around the head of Craig's cock, keeping his teeth covered, and then increased the pressure as he felt Craig's thighs tighten under his hands and heard the man's breathing speed up.

"God, that's good," Craig whispered, making a concentrated effort not to tug too hard at Dave's hair. He held his breath without noticing, though, when Dave slowly slid down until his lips bumped up against Craig's hand, his eyes meeting Craig's as he sucked steadily on the length in his mouth.

"_Dave_," Craig groaned urgently, his body thrumming with desire as Dave sucked, his muscles tightening to try to hold back. When Dave heard his name in that tone, however, he wanted nothing more but to please the man in front of him, and Craig's attempt to hold off was a lost cause to the tightening of Dave's lips around his shaft.

As he felt Craig's release fill his mouth, Dave swallowed carefully, pulling off when he was sure the other man was done and then placing a gentle kiss to the tip of Craig's cock before he leaned up for the other man's lips.

"Jesus, Daisy," Craig murmured as he cupped the back of Dave's neck and drew him into a slow, passionate kiss. "You are incredible," he whispered against Dave's lips, earning a blush before Craig kissed him again.

"Not so much…" Dave whispered against his lips before Craig leaned back in again and kissed him hard to silence him.

"So much," he countered, smiling as he took Dave's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. "And I'll keep telling you till you believe me."

"Might be a while," Dave warned in a mumble, and Craig grinned.

"I've got time."

 

A week before Christmas, Craig was at the theatre getting ready for closing night, and Dave was out with Eliza Jane, getting last minute Christmas shopping done.

"Are you getting a pwesent for Mummy this year?" Eliza asked as they walked slowly through the mall, Eliza holding Dave's hand tightly as she had refused to be carried.

"I don't think so, sweetheart."

"Why not?"

"Well, people don't usually give presents to their ex-wives, honey. It's just not the way it works."

"Oh." Eliza frowned. "But you're getting Uncle Cwaig something, right?"

"Of course I am."

"Oh, good!" she piped up with a grin. "Can I help pick it out?"

Dave laughed and swung her up by the one arm to his hip, earning a delighted squeal. "What do you think Uncle Craig should get for a Christmas present, 'Liza?"

She frowned and tilted her head to the side, considering. "Ummm… how about a Rocky and Bullwinkle lunchbox?"

Dave gave her a confused look. "A lunchbox?"

"Not just _any_ lunchbox, Daddy! Rocky and Bullwinkle! It's his favourite toon."

"It is?"

"Yes it is, silly billy. Didn't you know that, Daddy?"

"Well, no, but we don't exactly watch cartoons together."

Eliza gave him an exasperated sigh, her little chest heaving as she rolled her eyes. "_Da_ddy. You're a very bad boyfriend."

Dave's eyes shot to the ceiling. "Excuse me?"

"Maggie told me about boyfriends and girlfriends," Eliza explained. "She said they're like husbands and wives, except that they aren't married, but they still love each other. And you love Uncle Cwaig, but you haven't gotten married yet. So he's you're boyfriend!" she explained triumphantly.

"Um… okay, sweetie," Dave conceded. "But I thought you didn't like Maggie?"

"Oh, she's all right now. We had a revolution, and she's not Queen of the Playground any more, but we decided to have a democracy instead. Timmy told me about democracy."

"Who's Timmy?"

"He's in my class. He's from America."

"Ah."

"He told us that in a democracy, you don't have a Queen at _all_!" she explained dramatically.

"Not at all??" Dave repeated, feigning shock.

"No! But you have a President and stuff. So I was elected President, and I picked Maggie to be my Vice-President. Because you told me that the best thing to do to mean people is be nice to them, and they'll be nice back. Remember?"

"I do remember, sweetheart. That's very mature of you."

"Very what?"

"Mature. Very big girl."

"Oh! Okay. I like being a big girl."

Dave grinned. "So remind me why we're getting this lunchbox again?"

"Well you see Daddy," Eliza began, sitting up in Dave's arms self-importantly, like a little lecturer, "you are a bad boyfriend now. But don't worry! You can be a good boyfriend again soon."

"Oh? And how might I go about that?"

"Well, you're a bad boyfriend because you don't know Uncle Cwaig's favourite toon. And he won't tell you, see, because he pretends that he doesn't care what we watch, because he's a grownup. But he laughs extra-hard at Rocky and Bullwinkle, see. So I can tell he really likes them."

"Ah. You pay a lot of attention, don't you?"

"Yes. It's good to pay attention. Miss Alison says people who pay attention don't hurt themselves or mess up."

"I see. So if I pay more attention I can be a good boyfriend?"

"Yes," Eliza agreed, nodding resolutely. "Because people who love each other should know each other's favourite toons, even if one of the people is afraid to talk about it because he's a grown-up. So you should get Uncle Cwaig a Rocky and Bullwinkle lunch box to show him how much you love him."

"Well it makes a lot of sense when you put it that way."

"I told you so! Come on, Daddy, we've got to go get a lunch box at the toy shop."

"All right. Toy shop it is."


	12. Of Best Friends and Lunchboxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Craig spend Christmas together.

After a fair bit of haggling, and a few threats from Craig about getting lawyers involved, Dave managed to convince Kate that this year they should have Eliza for the day after Christmas, at least. Dave had invented a story about how Santa Claus was making a special delivery just for her on the 26th, and so when Christmas Eve came around, Craig and Dave were alone in the house.

"Why didn't you go back to your family in Zid for the holiday?" Dave asked quietly as he laced and unlaced their fingers, lying on his back between Craig's legs on the couch. There were appropriately cheesy Christmas songs on the stereo, a tree in the corner, and a couple of empty eggnog glasses sitting on the coffee table, an effort at tradition on Craig's part meant to dull the blow for Dave of another Christmas Day without his daughter or a church service or his family.

"Because I wanted to be with you. Christmas is important to you, and it wasn't so great last year, being at home and knowing that you were all alone here in the house without a family to celebrate with," Craig explained. "New Year's is important to me, so we're spending New Year's there."

"We… we are?" Dave asked, turning over to look at Craig, who was grinning like a loon.

"The tickets are part of your Christmas present. I know it's a bit self-serving for a gift, but I wanted you to meet my parents and see my hometown."

"Craig, that's… that's really nice. Thank you," Dave replied, pressing his lips to Craig's briefly.

"You're quite welcome. Dave, there's, um… there's something I've been meaning to tell you, and I think this may be a good time to do it."

"Oh?" Dave asked, propping up a bit to look at Craig.

"Yeah, I… well do you remember that time, about a year and a half ago, when you asked how I knew that I was in love the first time?"

Dave blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I do. It was the day after your roof was damaged, and we ran in the rain together."

Craig smiled at how Dave remembered things, and nodded. "And what did I say?"

"You said that you felt comfortable, and that something 'clicked,'" Dave replied dutifully.

Craig smiled slowly, and then reached out and tapped Dave's cheek lightly with two fingers. "Click."

"You mean…"

"I love you, Daisy. I should've said it earlier, but, well, it had been a while, you know, and the last time was so painful, skipping the country and all that…"

"It's okay," Dave interrupted. "I understand, but… thank you," he said softly, reaching up to cup Craig's cheek. "It means a lot to me that you're able to say that to me."

"Well you're quite the special bloke, Daisy. Don't know if you quite get that yet, but you are."

Dave blushed and nuzzled Craig's neck with his nose. "Quit embarrassing me, Parker. C'mon, I've got something for you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Well it's not your only present, but you can get the rest tomorrow. I want you to open this one tonight."

"Okay," Craig agreed as Dave got up and pulled a wrapped box from underneath the tree, handing it to Craig and then sitting next to him on the couch with a shy smile.

Craig tore into the wrapping eagerly, but then emerged with a confused smile on his face. "A lunchbox? Daisy, I think you may have to explain this one."

"Ah, well it's not just any lunchbox, love. It's a Rocky and Bullwinkle lunchbox," Dave explained proudly.

"Okay…"

"See, Eliza explained it to me like this. I have, evidently, been a bad boyfriend over the past few months."

"You have?" Craig asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Funny, I didn't notice."

Dave grinned and nodded. "Oh yes, very bad. See, I never knew your favourite cartoon. Very important bit of information."

Craig laughed out loud at that. "Three guesses who told you."

"Oh, Miss Eliza is quite the observant little tyke. And what's more, she explained to me a cardinal rule of relationships that my education had somehow been lacking up to this point."

"And what's that?" Craig asked, turning the lunchbox over in his hands with amusement.

"Well, apparently people who love each other know each other's favourite cartoons. And since I didn't know, I wasn't properly in love with you, see. But now I do, so the appropriate action was to purchase this lunchbox to show you how much I love you, and perhaps to apologise for being such an uncultured twat up to this point."

Craig laughed again, and pulled Dave into his arms, toppling the both of them backwards on the couch again. "I love you so bloody much…"

Dave giggled and kissed Craig on the cheek. "Good to hear that. Because, you know, I love you, too. Clearly, since the lunchbox says and all."

"Oh, yes," Craig agreed in a mock serious tone, nodding and then kissing Dave on the top of the head. "So, what's your favourite cartoon?"

"Scooby Doo."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Craig grinned, and Dave smiled back, and then he kissed the man he loved and gently lowered the lunchbox to the floor. He'd have to remember to thank Eliza later, but for now, it was time to enjoy one of the happiest Christmases he'd had in a long, long time.  



End file.
